


We're Just Broken

by pompeiipilots



Series: We're Just Broken Series [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anxiety, BAMF Stiles, Cancer, Claudia Stilinski Feels, Claudia Stilinski Memories, Concerned Derek, Cuddly Derek, Dead Allison Argent, Dead Claudia Stilinski, Depression, Derek Loves Stiles, Derek Takes Care Of Stiles, Derek and Stiles are Mates, Dying Stiles, Engagement, Family Drama, Fighting, Fluff and Smut, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Kind of post 3B with my own twist, Lacrosse, M/M, Music, Musically gifted Stiles, New Male Character, New Member of pack, Pack Dynamics, Panic Attacks, Scott is a Good Friend, Sick Stiles, Stiles Loves Derek, Stiles and Derek are Engaged, Stiles is a Bad ASS, Stiles makes Derek weak, Stilinski Family Feels, Stilinski Family Secrets, Supportive Danny, Supportive Derek, Supportive Scott, True Alpha Scott, attempted suicide, mention of bullying, numbered days, possible triggers, shmoop Derek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-08-06
Packaged: 2018-01-18 01:27:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 100,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1409923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pompeiipilots/pseuds/pompeiipilots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles always knew his days were numbered. I mean, what do you expect from a teenager with dementia, right? But his days become more numbered than ever when after finding out he has cancer, that he wants no stone unturned, especially with Derek. As he ties up the loose ends before the last of his days, he is also helping a young werewolf they recruited to the pack learn his way, and also insuring that his missing piece from the pack will be replaced.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is in his senior year (about la November) and the bad news interrupts everything

            Stiles opened his eyes and looked around the vaguely familiar room. He blinked his eyes and focused on the people standing around him. His vision cleared and he saw that it was Scott, Derek, and Melissa. He felt a warm hand petting his face and he nuzzled closer to hit. The hand drifted up the side of his head and brushed his hair back, and the only person who ever did that to him was Derek. He took a deep breath and sat up on the couch, seeing that he was in the McCall living room. 

                “Hey there sleepyhead,” Derek cooed in his ear. Stiles tried to get up but Melissa pushed him back down to the couch.

                “You need to lay down,” Melissa said as Stiles stumbled back down to the couch. Everything was sore, especially his chest, but he tried to ignore it.

                “I’m fine,” He insisted, sliding his feet under him. He went to sit up a little more and winced in pain. He ran his fingertips down his chest to feel bandages under his shirt. He lifted his shirt to see that there were bloody outlines of claw marks seeping through them. He took another deep breath and laid back down. “What happened?” Scott looked at Derek, who didn’t know what to say.

                “There was a miscommunication between us and another pack,” Derek finally said. “We were fighting them, and when you and Lydia went to leave, one of the wolves grabbed you and slashed you up with his claws. It looks worse than it is, according to Melissa,”

                “Well, it hurts like hell,” Stiles couldn’t get comfortable. He tried adjusting himself on the slim couch, but it was literally impossible to lay on it without falling off. “Where’s my dad?”  
                “We haven’t called him yet. He was on call, something about a ten car pile-up, and we thought we would wait, considering it isn’t a life or death situation. Do you want me to call him?” Stiles chewed on the question for a while.

                “Maybe just shoot him a text or something. You know how he is about stuff like this,” Melissa grabbed her phone from her back jeans pocket and started to compose a message. Derek sat on the armrest of the couch and kept combing his fingers through Stiles’ hair.

                “I love you,” He said, planting a long kiss on his cheek.”

                “I love you too,” Stiles sat there, focusing on his breaths. Every small movement he executed sent pain rushing up his chest and stomach.

                “Do you hurt?” Stiles nodded. Melissa left to grab some Advil and a glass of water. “We were going to take you to the hospital, because the scratches are really deep, but with the pile-up, we’re going to have to wait. I called and all of the hospitals are pretty much full. I’m sorry,” Stiles nodded in understanding.

                “It’s okay. I’d rather be here than waiting in some full waiting room nearly to tears. I’m okay here,”                        

                “That’s what we thought,” Derek saw that Stiles was irritably adjusting his shoulders to get comfortable. He picked him up and put him in the large plush chair, and then pulled the bed frame from the couch and put Stiles back on it. Stiles pulled a pillow under his head. He looked at the clock in the house to see that it was about 3:30 am.

                “You guys can go to bed, I’ll be fine,” Stiles offered. Melissa rubbed her eyes exhaustedly and headed to her bedroom. Scott planted himself in the chair and quickly drifted off to sleep. Derek chose to curl up next to Stiles on the pull out bed, draping his arm around him. Stiles hugged his arm as Derek pulled the blanket from the back of the couch onto Stiles’ pale and cold body. For several minutes, they just sat there, Stiles nuzzled close into Derek’s chest and he finally drifted off to sleep.

                Stiles woke up to his dad carefully shaking him awake. It was about 6 am. He saw that Derek was now on the floor sleeping, which Stiles knew he hadn’t been until he heard John pull up. Melissa was near the door.

                “Hey buddy, we’ve gotta go, okay?” Stiles nodded, fatigue filling through him. Scott was out and about around the house, and he came back in the living room to wake up Derek. Derek got up, stretched his back, and then grabbed Stiles off of the couch and carefully laid him in the front seat of the cruiser. Stiles watched as his dad drove to the hospital with Melissa following behind for her shift. Once they got there, Stiles and John waited in the waiting room for a couple of minutes before Stiles was told to go back. At that point, Stiles fell back asleep without realizing he had drifted off.

                                ~~~*~~~

                “Stiles,” Derek woke him. He yanked his head up.

                “Oh, yeah, I’m awake!” Derek shook his head.

                “Stiles, you’ve been snoring,” Stiles looked around the room to see that he had been admitted, at least for the day. Being here stressed Stiles out and it made him anxious.

                “Why did they admit me?”

                “Because you lost a lot of blood, so they’re giving you another pint,” Derek nodded towards the IV tower.

                “When can I leave?”

                “They didn’t say,” Stiles kind of threw his hands down in protest. “You look so cute when you’re throwing a teenager temper-tantrum,”

                “Derek, just shut the fuck up. Okay? I don’t like hospitals. They stress me out, they creep me out, and my fear of needles is always ignored every time I’m here. It’s not like you don’t have a weird phobia of something,”

                “I don’t,”  
                “Liar.”  
                “You’re right.” Stiles stared him down until he finally finished. “It’s fire. I mean, small bonfires, fireplaces, matches and stuff don’t bother me, but like house fires on the news, every  time I see a fire truck wailing it’s siren, it makes me feel weird,”

                “Now you know how I feel about being here, so how fast can I leave?” Stiles was already counting his fingers with his thumb, fidgeting a little bit, then he went to tapping his fingers on his leg. He looked back over at the IV tower and watched the blood in the bag slowly drain out, waiting for it to be empty. He looked back down at his chest, pulling the gown down to see that there was new wrapping around it. “They changed it out?”

                “Yeah, after they spend forever cleaning it and sewing it back up,”

                “Awesome. Did my dad leave for another shift?”

                “No, he just had to go do a little business back at the station. Good news, it’s a school day and you don’t have to go!”

                “I’d rather go to school,”

                “Look who has the sour attitude now,”

                “You know how I fucking feel about being here, Derek, god. This is like you working at Auschwitz during WWII, okay. I. Don’t. Like. Hospitals.” Derek scooted his chair closer to Stiles and rubbed his hand with his thumb. Stiles turned and grabbed Derek’s hand. His fear slowly decreased as Derek scooted closer and closer in his chair.

                “See? I’m here, there’s nothing to be stressed about,”

                “There are plenty of things to be stressed out, but all I see are those gorgeous green eyes of yours,” Derek blushes a little bit and they set in the silent room, just swimming in each other’s love and affection.

                                       ~~~*~~~

                The next morning, Stiles went home. Once he walked in the house, he immediately got a pair of scissors and cut the bracelet from his wrist and threw it away. It was a Saturday, which meant that there was absolutely nothing for him to do but awkwardly sit around the house.

                “Stiles, get the door!” His dad yelled from the other room. Stiles rolled his eyes and opened the door to see the delivery man with a package. There was tape around the whole package that read Amazon, and Stiles remembered ordering a few things a couple of weeks ago.

                “Sign here,” The delivery man pointed to the clipboard that was extended out. Stiles sighed and sloppily wrote his signature on the clipboard. The man handed him the package and Stiles grabbed it, the weight nearly bringing him down to the ground. He shut the door and hobbled in with the oversized box, tossing it on the floor.

                “Damn it Stiles, you know you’re not supposed to do any heavy lifting, we don’t want you to tear those stitches, well, those staples,”    

                “You told me to get the door, and it was five feet dad, I can manage five feet.”

                “Yeah, but I worry about you, okay? If something ever happened to you, I don’t think I could forgive myself.”

                “Well, dad, even like you said, I’ve had to grow up pretty fast since mom died, but I can handle things, okay? We can handle things,” John seemed happy with that answer. He grabbed the box off of the floor and carried it to Stiles’ room for him. Once he dropped the box on his bed, Stiles took his pocket knife and was already cutting at the tape. He opened the box to reveal several very old and large books that had French, Italian, or Latin titles.

                “What the hell are those?”

                “They’re old legend books explaining the lycanthropy gene. I can only read the Italian half decent, but the rest I’m going to give to Lydia to translate,” Stiles opened a few of the books and started thumbing through them. He quickly walked over to his desk and grabbed out his different colored sticky notes that he usually used when studying, all coded. Green meant important information; blue usually marked questions or had questions written on them; red meant facts to check or look up; and yellow meant words to look up. John was surprised that Stiles was flying though the post-it notes at lightning speed, gaining an understanding for why every month they had to go and buy more.

                “So, do you do this often..?” John tried to start the conversation back up, but Stiles was already lost in thought.

                “How do you think it was possible for me to get into AP Lit? Just because I have dementia and ADD doesn’t mean that I don’t have a good system for literature, especially in different languages.” Stiles pulled off another lime green post it, leaving the bland yellow backing. “By the way, I need more post-its.” John sighed and started to leave the room.

                “How many?”

                “Five of each color, do you know how long this book is?” Stiles handed John the book. Just the cover was about five pounds of leather.

                “Damn.” John handed the book back to Stiles. He left and Stiles went back to reading, annoyed that he didn’t have any more green post-it notes, because there were many occasions where he needed them. He gave up, pushing to book back to the other side of his bed. Trying to read in Italian was making his Adderall seem like it wasn’t working. The only reason he had been even remotely interested in Italian was to understand music better, and reading music was practically like learning Italian, but he wanted to go further with it. It was one of the last things he did with his mom, right after he learned to play the piano and guitar. He didn’t play as much anymore, mostly because it was the last good memory of his mom before everything went to shit, but occasionally when he felt irritable, he would turn on his keyboard and play the song his mom taught him. It was a March that was played in the key of G that included mini-scales.

                Stiles heard knocking at his window. He looked to see who it was, but he already knew that it was Derek, like usual. He unlocked the window and climbed back into his bed where he picked the book back up and attempted to read it.

                “What is that?”

                “An Italian book on the Lycanthropy gene and how they interpret werewolves.”  
                “Italian? Are you doing this for fun?”

                “Shut up. I’m doing it for the pack.” Derek got into the bed with Stiles and curled up next to him as he read through the book, the pages yellowed from age.

                “Do you have more?” Stiles pointed over to the box and Derek got up and rummaged through it, pulling out a blue bound book covered in a layer of dust. “Where did you get these exactly?”

                “A private collector was selling them on Amazon, dirt cheap. I bought all of them, and the whole order was only about $100. I’m still expecting three more boxes,”

                “I’m surprised that he gave up this one without a fight,” Stiles looked over at the book, not being able to read the fading silver font of the title.

                “Why?”  
                “This is one of two copies in the world, both at one point belonging to my family until Peter stupidly left his at his old college dorm, and the other one burned in the fire.” Derek cracked the book open, a piece of stationary paper falling out of it. Derek leaned down and picked it up. “Yup, this was Peter’s copy, here’s the note Grandma and Grandpa gave him,” He held up the piece of paper.

                “Awesome, well, do you want it?” Stiles set the book back down, spine up to save the page.

                “I would love this, but I don’t want it to get destroyed, so we better keep it here.” Stiles shrugged his shoulders and went back through the book. Derek sat back on the bed, unbuttoning a couple of buttons in his Henley t-shirt and batting at Stiles’ arm.

                “Derek, that’s really hot right now, and it’s making me slightly aroused, but if I pop the cut back open, my dad will kill me. He almost did this morning when I carried this box in from the door.” Derek’s face fell, making Stiles feel guilty for cock-blocking him.

                “Ugh, why do you have to be so vulnerable to everything? You are like a piece of china, so easily breakable.”

                “Well, that kind of comes with being human, sorry, let me just not,” Stiles clicked his tongue.

                “I didn’t mean it like that. You are the fine piece of china that sits in the china closet, the beautiful vintage plate that your grandmother doesn’t even let look at too long as to not flaw it, and I’m the rough china closet. My sole job is to protect the beautiful plate and all of its gorgeousness.” Stiles blushed a little bit, and closed his book, tossing it onto the bean bag chair.

                “That was beautiful, but you’re not going to get any tonight, sorry,”

                “Damn,” John walked into the room, seeing Derek wrapped around Stiles, and Derek quickly fell to the ground. “Is that crick out of your neck, Stiles?”

                “Derek, I may be old, but I’m not an idiot. And like I told Stiles, no sex until he’s allowed to go back to lacrosse. I don’t want to explain to Melissa, or even any people at the hospital that my son is back because he tore his staples out sexing up his boyfriend,”

                “As right you are sir. Well, Stiles, I’m going to uh-head out before your father shoots me. Have a good night,” Derek started walking towards the window.

                “Derek, please, use the front door,”

                “My apologies Sheriff,” Derek walked out of the room and quickly left the house.

                “You know, I don’t think of him as a bad kid, right?” John sat at the edge of Stiles’ bed and he shrugged his shoulders. “It’s funny to scare someone who could tear out my heart, you would think as a previous alpha, he would be more violent,”

                “Well, he looks and acts tough, but below that big buff exterior is a big ol’ teddy bear,” Stiles chuckled at his own comment, imagining Derek as a buff teddy bear. He cracked himself up. “Anyway, did you get the post-it notes?”

                “Yeah, here,” John threw him the office supply store bag and Stiles dug through it, pulling out the post-its. He also saw that there was a crap load of notebook paper, some tab dividers, and a large binder.

                “What’s this for?”

                “I thought to organize your thoughts for the books in this, because I was looking for a pen on your desk the other day, and yikes, it was all werewolf notes, but it was so disorganized,”

                “Is that why I can suddenly see the space around my computer?”

                “Yes, that would probably be why,”

                “Well, okay then. I’m going to go to Scott’s house, to hang out, if that’s fine with you,” John shrugged.

                “I don’t care. It’s Saturday night. Do whatever.” Stiles’ face lit up. John left and Stiles threw on a pair of jeans and his favorite Beastie Boys t-shirt, which was black with blue lettering that read “Beastie Boys” in cursive under a chunky font that read “Bulls on Parade”. He combed his hair back and threw on his favorite pair of dark grey vans along with his signature red jacket. He grabbed his keys and drove over to Scott’s house, parking on the street. He walked in the door to see Melissa making mac and cheese in the kitchen and Scott laid out on the couch playing Xbox. He sat down next to Scott, who was stabbing someone from the opposite team in the neck with a dagger, getting last kill in the round.

                “Mind if I join in?”

                “No way, here,” Scott threw him a controller and Stiles logged into his Xbox live account. While the dumb wheel was spinning and loading, they sat and talked.

                “So Derek was over today, and my dad caught him cuddling with me in my room, and Derek tried to play it off, and it was kind of convincing, but then my dad totally embarrassed the shit out of me,” He tapped through the game menu and they continued the game.

                “What exactly did he say?”

                “He said that he wasn’t going to allow sex until I’m back to lacrosse because he doesn’t want the embarrassment of how I might have ripped one of the staple from my abdomen by quote unquote ‘sexing up his boyfriend’,” Scott, who had just taken a swig of soda spit it out all over the front of himself, and then, wouldn’t stop laughing.

                “I can’t imagine that coming out of your dad’s mouth,”

                “I wish I was lying,” Stiles shot another guy and stole the gun off of the body. “And wow, this guy has a nice sniper,”

                “I know right,” Scott was rapidly shooting the enemy, the trigger buttons on his controllers clicking loudly. Melissa called for dinner and they ended the game, going to sit at the counter to eat. Melissa slid mac and cheese and grilled cheese (as said in Scott’s request, he wanted a cheesy meal. Stiles doesn’t ask, he just goes along with it and tells himself that he’s not actually the crazy one). Stiles squirted some ketchup on his plate, secretly wishing Melissa would have made her chicken (so Stiles had a chicken addiction. He could quit any time he wanted) but still enjoyed the lovely grilled cheese.

                “Should we watch a movie?” Scott asked, mouth full of grilled cheese.

                “As long as it’s not Road House, we’ve seen that movie way too much,”

                “How about Ferris Bueler’s Day Off, c’mon, that’s like the movie to describe your life!”

                “Yes. We have to watch it now, do you want to join us Melissa?” Melissa looked up from the sink where she was washing the pans from dinner.

                “I’m okay, I have an early shift tomorrow, so I’m not going to stay up too long,” She wiped her hands on the towel hanging from the stove and headed upstairs. Scott threw the movie on and they started watching it.

                “Y’know, I never got to apologize for you getting hurt,” Scott started, curling his feet under him on his side of the couch.

                “It’s fine, okay? All that matters is that no one died, and also, it’ll heal,” Scott didn’t pull his head up from staring at the floor.

                “It won’t heal like it would for me,” Scott said. “It’ll scar. You won’t be able to go to the pool, or the beach with your shirt off without anyone asking about it,” Scott looked back at Stiles.

                “I don’t care Scott, okay? Everyone is fine. I’m fine. Don’t feel guilty, and it’s not even as bad as you think,” Scott quickly walked over to Stiles and yanked his shirt up, revealing all of the gauze wrapped up and down his chest.

                “You are a horrible liar,” Scott shook his head as Stiles pulled his shirt down.

                “Scott, I can still do stuff for the team okay? My dad had planned to take me to the shooting range today, but he postponed it until he thinks I’m physically able, but I’ve been practicing handgun shooting with him for the past couple of months,” Scott seemed shocked at this.

                “Really?”

                “I’m serious. I was going to be that badass kid who would have all of these awesome catchphrases that kids would be proud of, and would be too young to know that they are just stolen from 80’s movies such as the one playing,” Scott couldn’t help but laugh at that.

                “You would,”  
                “Damn straight!” Stiles made a pretend gun with his fingers and aimed it at the wall. “Hasta la vista baby!” He yelled and made “Pew! Pew!” sounds with his mouth.

                “You are a child.”

                “You’re more of a child!” Scott rolled his eyes and they went back to the movie, to the part where Ferris was changing his absent days on the computer from home. Stiles kind of thought about Scott’s apology, thinking how stupid it was, in his opinion, it wasn’t that big of a deal. Look at Scott the night they went to go find that dead body. Stiles got off nearly unpunished, as usual, but Scott got bitten by a rabid werewolf (also known as Peter), I mean, he got to be a werewolf and that was pretty cool, but at the same time, that bite was ugly looking. And also, the night that Scott got the crap beat out of him and thought Derek died and nearly bled out on the bus the next day when they were going to the track meet. I mean, everyone was going to get hurt eventually, but like Derek always told Erica, Boyd, and Isaac when in training, “It’ll heal”. And before now, Stiles didn’t know how true that was. His emotional issues about his mother’s death, it healed. When he broke his arm screwing around with Scott at the iced over river when they were 8, it healed. The deep scratches down his chest right now, they’ll heal.

                                ~~~*~~~

                Stiles didn’t know what time it was when he woke up, but he estimated it to be around 2 am. He was too lazy to turn on his phone, or to even get up, so he grabbed that same blanket from the back of the couch and rolled himself in it like a Stiles burrito, Scott now on the floor snuggled in his loose hooded sweatshirt. Stiles turned the Xbox back on, loaded Netflix, and threw on The Breakfast Club to get him back to sleep. He had this thing about the dark, where he always had to have noise before he fell asleep. It probably had something to do when someone broke into their house when he was five, but it was now kind of a bad habit. He really had nothing to be scared of, especially with an alpha werewolf in the house with him, but he didn’t really care.

                The smell of bacon and eggs was the thing that got Stiles to set up and rub his eyes tiredly. He saw Melissa, dressed in her scrubs, setting the newly cooked eggs on a plate and grabbing some strawberry lemonade out of the fridge. He stretched his shoulders and sat at the counter, grabbing a plate and throwing a couple of pieces of bacon on there before Scott woke up and gobbled the whole thing down. The only bad thing about Scott being a werewolf is he ate. A lot. One time when they were at a party, where pretty much everyone except them was smoking weed, Scott kind of got “second hand smoke” from that and had the munchies. Let’s just say that the Andersons still don’t know what happened to their German Shepard.

                “Mhrruh,” Scott mumbled, rolling on the floor and getting up, rubbing his eyes with his fisted hands. He walked over and sat next to Stiles and they ate quietly, listening to the news from the TV in the kitchen. Melissa hummed a song and sipped her coffee, flipping through one of her magazines before she would have to go to work. Stiles chewed at his bacon and took a piece of his toast and ran it through the runny eggs before eating it.

                “Oh Stiles, here, I forgot to give you back your clothes. They’re a little shredded, but I got most of the blood out,” Melissa handed him the pair of jeans he had worn, the blood pretty much out of them, and his torn blue t-shirt. He opened the shirt and traced the claw marks down it. The shirt was pretty much a goner, but maybe he could keep it in his car. It was still pretty heavily covered in blood, so half of the shirt was this dark purple color.

                “Thanks,” He folded the shirt back up and set it on top of the jeans. “Thanks for the breakfast, and if you don’t mind, I think I’m gonna head out, see the pops before he leaves,”

                “Have a nice day Stiles,” Melissa waved as Stiles left, starting his Jeep up and driving back home.

                He saw his dad in his office, filing through his desk for some paper, occasionally spitting profanities under his breath. Stiles waited patiently in the doorway, waiting for his dad to look up. His dad continued to sort through his drawers, and then moved to the file cabinet. Stiles sat on the edge of his dad’s desk, his old name plate sitting on the front of it.

                “What are you looking for?”

                “My report from the car pile-up a couple of days ago. We think that the guy who caused it may have been under the influence, and I need to check the records again. It’s in an accordion folder, it looks like-.”

                “Like this?” Stiles grabbed the folder off of the top of the desk, buried under a couple of papers. John sighed irritably.

                “Yes. I’ve been looking all morning for this! Thanks,”

                “Sometimes it takes a different set of eyes,”

                “That you are right. Now get your damn feet off of my desk, its mahogany,” Stiles quickly threw his feet down, and the rest of his body came crashing to the floor with it. “And please son, for the love of god, don’t hurt yourself,”

                “Dad, I can’t control it, it must be hereditary,”

                “Shut up.” John grabbed his gun and badge from on top of the file cabinet, slipping the gun it it’s holster and clipping the badge on the front of his shirt. “I’ll be back later tonight,”

                “Okay,”

                “And by the way, you have a doctor’s appointment on Thursday,” Stiles wanted to protest it, knowing that it was about his dementia and that they were going to have to drive all the way to San Diego to go to the new doctor, and Stiles was just _overwhelming with excitement_. He let out an irritable groan.

                “Whatever.” He wasn’t trying to be disrespectful, he was just showing his irritation.

                “You know that you have to do this, okay? I want you to have a future,” That shut Stiles right up. He knew his dad just wanted the best for him, but sometimes he just wished things hadn’t worked out like this. I think everyone wished things hadn’t worked out like this.

                “Okay.” He slumped his shoulders a little bit and his dad left. Stiles decided he needed a shower and went back upstairs. He stripped his shirt and looked down at the gauze and started unwrapping it. He looked down at his chest to see three long scratches nearly all the way up his chest. There was bruising around it, and it was still bleeding a little bit, but overall didn’t look too bad. He got into the shower, setting it as hot as it would go to relax his stiff muscles and just thought about everything that had happened. He thought about if it was all worth it. He made a mental pros and cons list before he finally decided that yes, it all was still worth it. Even though he was thrown into a horrible situation that he wasn’t sure he could handle, he finally decided that yeah, he thought he could handle it. He also thought that maybe he was the issue with the pack that he might be slowing them down.

                He shook off those thoughts and exited the bathroom a towel around his waist. He went into his room and picked out a random lacrosse t-shirt, a pair of sweats, and boxers and went back into the bathroom. He threw on the boxers and sweats and wrapped up his torso before leaving, his shirt hanging around his collar. He went downstairs and started slipping his arms in the sleeves and saw Derek, sitting on the couch flipping through channels.

                “Derek? What the hell? You didn’t want to text me, maybe a ‘hey, I’m coming over if that’s cool with you’?”

                “Stiles, you know how this relationship works, and we both know that I would have just come in the window either way.”

                “Did you come in through the window?”

                “No! I saw your dad and I came in the front door like a gentleman,” Stiles couldn’t even respond.             “Why did you want to come over anyway?”

                “Well, you know how the new Batman movie came out?” Stiles started beaming with excitement.

                “Yeah?”

                “Well, a certain someone got VIP tickets to the exclusive showing down in LA on Friday night,”

                “You did not.” Derek pulled out his wallet and handed Stiles one of the tickets. “Derek, it’s wonderful, but it’s too much,”

                “No, it’s just enough. You know it’s our anniversary,”

                “Anniversary?”

                “Yeah! A year ago is when we finally made things official,” Stiles thought back to junior year, after he had finally gotten away from the nogitsune. It was late November.

                “Wow, it seems like just yesterday that you grabbed me from behind and told me you’ve loved me forever,” Stiles had fantasized about that day for a while, and when it finally happened to him, it nearly took his breath away. “I have no idea how I’m going to top this,”

                “You’re not, I don’t want anything, and I wanted to do this for you,”

                “Derek Alexander Hale, I’m going to find something that you will love and cherish forever,” That’s when it hit Stiles. He was going to give Derek that book he had. But he had to do something else with it. He knew Derek loved to read, so he had to incorporate something with literature in it. Even though Derek had an iPhone, but wasn’t really into the whole Kindle and Nook trend. He used to talk to Stiles about how he was still working on a draft for a book he was writing, but now with the pack, he didn’t always have time to work on it, and Stiles really hoped that he would at least try to finish it. “Anyway, what do you want to do? Remember I can’t be out too late, it’s a school night,”

                “How about we go to the pier, we still have the rest of the day to waste away, and it’s still 9 am, so we have plenty of time to do go down to the beach,”

                “Okay, can I drive?”

                “No way in hell are you ever going to drive my car,”

                Derek finally drove up to the pier. He grabbed Stiles out of his Camaro and they walked over to get in line at the ticket booth. Derek put his arm around Stiles and Stiles nuzzled his head into his chest, smelling that he had his favorite cologne on. He didn’t know what it was, but it smelled amazing, especially when it mixed with the smell of, well, Derek. Derek looked at Stiles and leaned in for a kiss. They sat there, still kissing each other for a couple seconds before the line moved forward.

                “Mommy, why are those two guys kissing?” Stiles heard a little girl behind them ask her mom.

                “Well sweetie, they really love each other,” Stiles hated when these conversations would go on about Stiles and Derek.

                “They’re not doing it right, they need to love girls,” The little girl said seriously. Derek put his lips on the shell of Stiles’ ear.

                “Just ignore them,” Stiles’ mood shifted and Derek grabbed his hand, holding it with his warm skin. They walked up to the ticket counter and Derek bought himself and Stiles wristbands to ride the rides. The first thing they did was went on the Ferris wheel. They waited in the car for another group to fill the other side, and it happened to be the little girl and her mom. Stiles tried not to look over their way, and Derek, fucking Derek, started a conversation with them.

                “Where are you guys from?”

                “Santa Monica,” The mother replied. “And you two?”

                “Beacon Hills,” Derek know had his hand on Stiles’ thigh, causing him to blush a little bit. Stiles started to loosen up as the Ferris wheel climbed higher and higher, leaning his head on Derek’s shoulder.

                “I love you,” He said to Derek.

                “I love you too,” Derek ran his fingers through Stiles’ hair and Stiles hugged him back, feeling his muscles flex under his arms.

                “Are you boyfriends?” The little girl blurted out.

                “Lucy!” The mother responded appalled.

                “Yes, we are actually,” Stiles responded. “Derek is my boyfriend,” Stiles couldn’t even stop the smile that was spreading across his face. Boyfriend, he thought. Boyfriend.

                “I thought boys could only date girls,” She said, matter-of-factly.

                “Love is love, and you can love whoever you want, boy or girl,” Derek said, planting a kiss on Stiles’ cheek. He was blushing again. The Ferris wheel went back down and they exited.

                “Derek? Can we go ride the bumper cars? Please?” Stiles begged, acting like a child.

                “Whatever you want,” Derek said, shaking his head. “I call the green one!”

                “Not if I get there first!”  
                The rest of the day included Stiles crashing into Derek with his bumper car, they rode the Spinning Dragons until Derek almost threw up his funnel cake, and then they played games. Derek tried to swerve Stiles out of the line of the games, but when he went to go get some cotton candy for them to share, he saw the games.

                “Derek, will you please win me that wolf up there? C’mon, it has blue eyes, and is super adorable, just like you!”

                “Do I have a choice?”

                “No you do not,” Derek sighed and handed the booth worker two dollars. It was one of those games where you had to hit the weight hard enough to ring the bell at the top of it. He grabbed the rubber hammer and beat the weight down, hearing the bell ring instantly.

                “Wow, your boyfriend has nice muscles,” The worker commented, staring at Derek’s biceps.

                “Yeah, it’s a part of the package,” Stiles said, smiling. The worker got up on a step stool and reached for the prizes.

                “Which one?”

                “The wolf!” Stiles said excitedly. He untied it from the wire it was held up by and handed it to Stiles. It was about 4 feet high and overstuffed.

                “How the hell am I supposed to fit that in my car?” Derek asked. The trunk is full of… scrap metal,” Stiles knew that scrap metal meant chain, barbed wire, and traps that Derek had bought a couple of weeks ago when he had planned to gain some more betas after Aiden and Allison died and Isaac left. It was now just Lydia, Derek, Scott, and Stiles. Their pack was small, and everyone agreed they needed to expand it, because the Hale territory was pretty big, and there was a lot of area they needed to protect.

                 “He’ll fit.”

                 Derek realized that he shouldn’t’ve gave into Stiles’ pleas when the stuffed wolf was stuck between him and Stiles in the car.

                 “You have to admit though, he is super cute!” Stiles hugged the neck of the stuffed animal and then snuck a kiss onto Derek’s cheek. “And he loves you so much. I’m gonna name him Derek!”

                 “You better,” Derek said, jokingly. On the way home, they both got hungry, and were convinced that they needed to stop and get some food, so they stopped at Five Guys and go a to-go order. “I know you wanted curly fries, but the fries here are amazing, and the burgers are huge, and I’m starving. I also figured out that funnel cake isn’t very fond of me,” Derek said, rubbing his stomach. Derek went inside as Stiles stayed in the car, listening to the radio and playing games on his phone. Derek came back and sat in the car, and it was planned perfectly, because just as he closed the car door, it started to pour down rain.

                 “Here’s your bacon burger,” Derek handed the burger to Stiles and Stiles set it on his lap. “And the fries, well, they always overfill them, which I’m not complaining about, but most of them are in the bag, so,” Derek pushed Stuffed Animal Derek back into the midget back seat as far as he would go and sat the bag of fries right behind the gearshift, and Stiles reached in and grabbed a handful.          

                 “Oh my god, Derek, these fries are fucking heaven,” Derek’s smile was so big it almost fell off of his face. “And this burger, it’s almost orgasmic,” Stiles started moaning, and chewing is burger.

                  “Stiles, you CANNOT make those noises and expect me not to have sex with you in the car right now, okay? That can’t happen,”

                  “Fine,” Stiles said. Derek pulled out of the parking lot, checking the time. 7:45. They still had plenty of time to get home. Derek switched the radio stations as they entered another town and [Demons by Imagine Dragons](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mWRsgZuwf_8) started playing. “Oh god I love this song!” Stiles turned the song up and started singing along with it.

                 “I didn’t realize you had such a beautiful voice,” Derek said.

                “Shut up Derek,”

                “No, I’m serious,”

                “Well, music was something me and my mom used to do.”

                “I bet you have perfect pitch,”

                “I bet you I don’t,”

                “Stiles, I know you have a tuner on your phone, just give it to me,” Derek stopped at a stoplight and grabbed Stiles’ phone. Stiles sung a note and the tuner lit up green, the arrow saying he hit a perfect A♭. “Stiles, it was perfect,”

                “Whatever Derek,”

                “No, I’m serious, how the hell did you do that?”

                “I just can I guess? I don’t know, me and my mom used to sing a lot when she taught me guitar and piano. She wanted me to know music, because it’s always important, I guess,”

                “I wish I knew how to play piano,” Derek pulled into Stile’ driveway, seeing that the cruiser was still gone.

                “Well, come up to my room with me and I’ll show you, bring the bag,” Stiles pointed at the paper bag and Derek shrugged and grabbed the bag as Stiles unlocked the front door, Stuffed Animal Derek’s neck bundled in the crick of his elbow. Stiles ran up to his room and blew the dust off of his keyboard and turned it on. Derek looked over as Stiles started to play an excerpt from what sounded like A Midsummer’s Night’s Dream. He was playing chords with his left hand and the lyrics with his right. It was beautiful.

                “I never knew that you could do that with your hands,” Stiles laughed and stopped, hitting his head on the keyboard.

                “There’s a lot of things that you didn’t know I could do with my hands,” Derek’s eyes widened. “I was joking.” His expression softened and he watched as Stiles grabbed his right hand and set his fingers on the keys. “That’s an F, that’s a C, and that’s F an octave higher, now play the notes together.” Derek did and heard the chord come together in his ears. “Play that 4 times,”

                “Why?”

                “You’ll see,” Derek did, and after that Stiles moved Derek’s thumb to the G key. “This is a G. Now play this 5 times,” Derek did. “And the notes repeat themselves after G because after 8 notes, the notes are the same, just higher or lower,” Derek nodded as Stiles moved his fingers to the C and E keys. “Play this 4 times,” Derek did. Then, Stiles moved his thumb over to the G key. “Play this 5 times.” Derek did.

                “Okay, so what was the point of this?”

                “Now play all of those chords the same number of times in the same order,” Derek racked his brain and put his fingers back and played the notes.

                “Oh my god, its [Viva la Vida by Coleplay](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dvgZkm1xWPE)!” Stiles nodded and smiled.

                “Well, it’s the beginning and lyrics minus the chorus. I knew it was your favorite song,” Derek looked like he was going to cry. He redid the chords and then backed away and sat on the edge of Stiles’ bed.

                “That was beautiful, how did you know that?”

                “One of my music teachers taught that to me one day when I was messing around in one of the practice rooms. I used to do jazz band on electric guitar in 8th grade, but I quit to take more AP classes.” Stiles stepped up to the keyboard and put his fingers on the keys, playing the beginning of the song, and then, he started to sing.

                “I used to rule the world,

                Seas would rise when I gave the word,

                Now in the morning I sleep alone,

                Sweep the streets I used to own,” He paused and played the chords perfectly.

                “I used to roll the dice,

                Feel the fear in my enemy’s eyes,

                Listen as the crowd would sing,

                ‘Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!’

                One minute I held the key,

                Next the walls were closed on me,

                And I discovered that my castles stand,

                Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand.” Stiles stopped and Derek was mesmerized at Stiles’ beautiful talent.

                “Marry me,” Derek said, his smile still on his face.

                “I’ll take you up on that offer,” Stiles jumped onto Derek’s lap and they started to make out, Derek’s mouth warm and inviting. Derek flicked his tongue inside Stiles’ mouth and he practically melted. Eventually, they removed from each other and cuddled on the bed. Stiles hooked his phone to his Bluetooth speaker and played some quiet music from one of his Pandora stations and they sat there until they heard the Sheriff pull in the driveway. Stiles quickly turned off his speaker and walked Derek downstairs.

                “What the hell is this thing?” John picked up Stuffed Animal Derek from the couch and looked at it.

                “Derek won it for me at the pier!” Stiles said, jumping up and down. “Ain’t he cute?” John rolled his eyes.

                “You are something else. Bed, now. Stiles lowered his head and climbed the stairs, pouting.

                “Have a nice night Mr. Stilinski,” Derek said. John nodded his head. Derek headed back to his car, the whole inside smelling of French fries and Stiles, which Derek couldn’t complain about.

                                ~~~*~~~

After school, Stiles sat on the bench as the rest of the lacrosse team practiced. He pulled out his college algebra homework and got a head start on it.

                “Stilinski, you can’t play today?” Stiles shook his head. He lifted up his shirt to reveal the staples, not even looking from his textbook. He didn’t wear any gauze today. “Aye!” Coach said, shaking his head. “Damn, what the hell did you do, climb over a barbed wire fence?”

                “I wish,” Stiles flipped the page in his textbook and wrote down the equations on notebook paper and solved. It wasn’t that hard for Stiles, considering he did take his Adderall so he kept his attention. He heard Scott brawling it out with Greenberg on the field, because Greenberg was hitting other teammates over the head with his lacrosse stick, and even though that was completely allowed, Scott, as being Co-captain of the team along with Stiles, was trying to teach the freshmen that violence isn’t the answer.

                “Stiles!” Scott groaned. Stiles stuck his notebook in the textbook and walked over there. “Tell Greenberg that it is not okay to beat other players over the head with his fucking lacrosse stick,” Stiles took the lacrosse stick from Scott’s hand and walked over to Greenberg, who had his helmet off. He took the end of it and smashed it into his forehead, not at full force, but enough to bruise.

                “Fuck!” Greenberg groaned, falling to the ground.

                “No hitting kids over the head with lacrosse sticks. You don’t like it, they don’t like it,” Stiles handed the lacrosse stick back to Scott who stood open-mouthed that Stiles had done that. “And now the universe is fulfilled and everything is equal. Carry on,” The freshman looked scared of Stiles now. He was the captain who always helped play pranks on coach, who always planned team parties and gatherings, and once bought pizza for the whole team because he wanted to, and he just took a lacrosse stick and blatantly smacked one of the biggest guys on the team, and walked away. Even Stiles was surprised he got away with it, but Coach didn’t say a word, probably because he agreed, and he also hated Greenberg, because honestly, he was a bigger douchebag than Jackson, which was saying something.

                “Well, that’s a perfect example on why you don’t do that,” Scott continued. Stiles zoned him out and went back to his algebra problems. He didn’t look up until he felt a thump on the bench next to him. He looked to the side to see Coach Finstock, texting someone.

                “Something you wanted Coach?”

                “Nice teaching out there Stilinski, I’m not even being sarcastic this time,” Stiles made a pleased face. “And also, I’m trying to be nicer to you and McCall, I mean, you guys did prevent me from bleeding out with that arrow in my chest,”

                “Yes sir, don’t forget about Danny,”

                “But I already liked Danny,” Coach Finstock grabbed his clipboard and wrote names down on the roster for the game next week.

                “Who doesn’t like Danny?”

                “Precisely my point,” Coach set the clipboard down and blew his whistle. “Asses in the locker room!” Everyone started to tear down and shuffle inside as Stiles put away his books in his backpack and carried it with him inside.

                “Thanks for driving me home by the way. I’m really glad that I didn’t have to try to bring all of this shit home on my bike. I would just keep it here, but my mom said she needed to wash it, well, threatened that if I didn’t take it home for her to wash that she would make all of my meals with wolfsbane, so…”

                “It’s no problem, I didn’t mind staying back anyway. Are there anymore after school practices?”

                “Nah, they’re all in the morning the rest of the week, are you going to be there?”             
                “I can be,”  
                “Please do, you know those freshman look up to us, right?”

                “I didn’t think so after today,”

                “No, after today now you’re their role model!”

                “Not sure if I’m role model material…” Stiles unlocked the Jeep and Scott threw his stuff in the back. “I mean, I beat someone over the head with a lacrosse stick for beating other kids over the head with a lacrosse stick,”

                “Whatever, man, it was pretty awesome,” Stiles headed to Scott’s house, taking the suburban route.

                “Oh, and I won’t be able to take Thursday, I have a doctor’s appointment or something that day. My dad found a doctor all the way in San Diego. San Diego Scott. God, he is ridiculous sometimes,” Stiles rolled his eyes and turned on the street a couple way from Scott’s.

                “Wow, he cares that much?”

                “Yeah, and I feel bad to tell him that therapy isn’t going to help much, according to research,” Scott shook his head.

                “That sucks a lot,”

                “Yeah, but hey, I lived longer than most pioneers. Most of them died at 17 from natural causes, and they thought they were old,”

                “Good point,” Stiles pulled into Scott’s driveway. “Thanks for the ride!”

                “Anytime!” Stiles pulled out and headed back to his house and went back upstairs where he decided what he was going to do for Derek for their anniversary. He booted up his computer and pulled one of the poems off of it from when he was in love with Derek before they got together, and he started to put chords behind it from the piano. For a while it was sounding pretty bad, but then, he finally found the perfect harmony and went with it. He had the beginning part done and it was only 9:30, but he kind of ran out of ideas, so he quickly got some musical lined paper and wrote it down and set it on his desk and ended up turning in earlier than usual, exhausted even though he didn’t do much.

                                ~~~*~~~

The rest of the week flew by without Stiles even knowing it, and soon enough he was waking up on Thursday morning, irritated and tired. He made himself a cup of coffee as his dad got ready. Stiles was already 1000% done with this idea, but he was going to do what his dad wanted, make him feel like he did the right thing. They packed in the cruiser and took the 3 hour drive to San Diego, Stiles getting antsier, the trip feeling like it took forever. They finally got to the neurologist clinic where Stiles debated on refusing to get out of the car. He was going to play the irritable teen card today, just to show his dad, and everyone else, how much he didn’t want to be there. They walked to the desk where his dad checked him in. Stiles went and found a seat amongst the few other patients that were scattered around the waiting room. He started texting Scott, Derek, and Lydia all at once, hoping one of them would respond. He checked the time to see that no, all of them were in Harris’ class, so there was no way in hell that they would text him back any time soon. Soon enough, a nurse attempted to call his first name.

                “Stilinski?” He asked getting up.

                “Yes,” Stiles sighed, knowing it was going to be a bad start to this experience. He waited in the room he was assigned to, his dad gushing on and on about how great this doctor was. Stiles didn’t care. He didn’t want to be here. He just wished he could just go continue with his normal routine and not sit here forever waiting on some doctor who they had driven 3 hours to see. It was all ridiculous. Him having dementia, them driving to go to a doctor, and his life. His life was just a ridiculous mess, that a lot of people couldn’t handle, and Stiles was surprised he could handle most of the time, but he managed.

                The doctor finally came in, introducing himself as a name that went in one ear and out the other. He misread Stiles’ name, and Stiles was even more done with everything than ever, to the point where his dad had to respond with, “Just call him Stiles,” Stiles listened with half of an ear as the doctor said that the atrophy was in its early stage, so they wouldn’t have to worry about any therapy for at least another couple of months, and that Stiles was showing very little signs of symptom progression, and then the appointment was over. John shook his hand and Stiles did too, not being pleased with how it wasn’t firm and assuring, and they drove back. They spent 6 hours driving for a 20 minute appointment. That’s what pissed Stiles off the most. He didn’t talk about it, unless his dad brought it up, and he just repeated the words “Yup”, “Great”, and “Sure” in order, even if it wasn’t in an appropriate manner to say such.

                “You don’t have to be like that, you know,” His dad said, as they were nearing home.

                “I know, but, just, God dad, this sucks. This really, really sucks. Just…” Stiles couldn’t even finish the sentence without almost breaking into tears.

                “I understand, I really do, okay? But we have to get through this together, okay? I just…” John paused for a second. “I don’t want to watch my son die like I did my wife,” Stiles didn’t know how to respond, so he didn’t say anything. Once they finally got home, Stiles went back up to his room. He kind of lost his appetite and didn’t really want to eat anything, but he started working more on Derek’s song. It was getting there. He had a chorus, but he just needed to sort out the second set of lyrics and the bridge. Stiles gave up on the keyboard and started using his guitar. For the recording, he was going to use both, but he was still pretty far away from that. He heard a knock on the doorframe and he turned his head to see his dad opening the door.

                “Do you want dinner?” 

                “No, I’m fine,” Stiles said, putting his guitar pick between his teeth and writing some notes down on the paper.

                “Are you sure you’re feeling okay? You haven’t eaten anything all day and you look pale,”

                “Haha, very funny dad,”  
                “Paler than usual, anyway,” John walked over to Stiles and put the back of his hand on Stiles’ forehead. “Doesn’t look like you have a fever, but are you really feeling okay?” Stiles knew his dad was worried, and that if he lied to him again, he would never hear the end of it.

                “Honestly, I’m really not,” Stiles said. “I haven’t been feeling good for a couple of days,”

                “Well, do you want to go to school tomorrow?” His dad asked, now sitting next to him.

                “I’m gonna try I guess, I also kind of want to get these beautiful things removed,” Stiles pointed at the staples.

                “Okay, well, take it easy, I don’t want you passing out or anything, okay?”

                “Okay dad, that’s fine.” Stiles went back to the song, and after a while gave up, hung his guitar back on the stand, and set the music back on his desk and crawled into his sheets, wishing Derek was there to cuddle him to sleep.

                                ~~~*~~~

After school the next day Stiles sat and watched Melissa rip the staples from his abdomen, and even though he loved Melissa, he wanted to slap her across the face because it hurt so badly. He was nearly crying when she finally pulled out the last staple. He looked down to see pink lines from the scars, and was thankful he could actually move around without the metal rubbing on his skin. He stretched around and was pleased with himself. He ended up going home and saw Derek in the driveway, waiting for him. Stiles knocked on his window and Derek rolled it down.

                “Is this your romantic gesture? You’re a little early,” Stiles said, leaning up against the car.

                “I realize, but you have to go in the house and let me knock, okay? I planned this all out,” Stiles nodded his head and walked back towards the house, wondering how much exactly he had rubbed off on Derek. He stood patiently by the door and watched as Derek walked up to the door and rang the doorbell. Stiles pulled it open and was greeted by a strong whiff of Derek’s cologne that Stiles loved, and watched as he pulled out a bouquet of flowers.

                “Happy anniversary love,” Derek said, locking lips with Stiles.

                “I would give you my anniversary gift, but I’m still working on it, Stiles said, grabbing his red jacket and checking his back pocket for his wallet. He stepped into the passenger seat of Derek’s Camaro and shut the door. In between the seats was a bag of curly fries and another thing of Five Guys burgers. “Are you trying to fatten me up for something, like in Silence of the Lambs?”

                “No sir, I just got some of your favorite foods to enjoy on the long car ride to go see your Batman movie,” Stiles was practically jumping out of the car with excitement. He ate all of his burger and was working on the curly fries while Derek turned up the radio that happened to be playing Viva la Vida by Coleplay. They were so excited that happened, especially since it was considered an “older song” now (peasants) and they belted all of the words to it, and when the song ended, Derek pulled up to the movie theater where the movie was showing, and Stiles grabbed his ticket out of his wallet, and walked arm in arm with Derek towards the theaters inside, handing the red vested teenager working the ticket stub counter their tickets and going into Theater 9. They decided on not getting any popcorn, because they were pretty full from the curly fries and bacon burgers (and Stiles still didn’t feel so hot on eating, and didn’t want to eat anything else). They settled in and watched the movie, Stiles nearly screeching like a little girl in some parts of it. Derek thought it was funny, and leaned his head on Stiles’ shoulder, which he enjoyed, and they watched as Batman saved Gotham City from the evil possessed Robin.

                “That’s how I felt when the nogitsune was controlling me,” Stiles said, pointing at Robin. “It fucking sucked,”

                “I would have a problem with that, y’know, admittedly being kind of a control freak sometimes,” Stiles had to laugh at that.

                “Hope you don’t have a problem being in my control tonight,” Stiles started, leaning in closer to Derek. Derek ran his hand under Stiles’ shirt and felt his now smooth stomach. He reached around to Stiles’ back and leaned in for another kiss. Stiles felt sparks popping out from every single part of his body, feeling incredibly lucky to have a boyfriend like Derek. Yeah, he was a looker, but even if Derek was the scrawniest kid in town, just having the ability to pick his brilliant brain was almost better than the looks, and the sex.

                The credits rolled on the big screen and they walked out of the theater.

                “Need anything before we leave?” When Derek said that, Stiles’ stomach suddenly went sour, and he didn’t think he could keep it down.

                “Yeah, just let me hit the bathroom,” Stiles tried to walk to the bathroom nonchalantly before bursting in one of the stalls and vomiting his guts out. He felt weak after it, but he finally got himself off of the bathroom floor and walked over to the sink where he wiped his mouth and popped in a piece of gum from his pocket. He was definitely not feeling good, but he wanted to tell his body to shut the hell up until they went back and had sex, and then it could do whatever it wanted, and that seemed like enough to get himself back up and going.

                “I’m ready to sex you up right now,” Derek whispered in Stiles’ ear when he came out of the bathroom.

                “Me too. Hope you like to drive fast,” Stiles leaned over and kissed Derek’s ear, biting his earlobe. Derek’s face showed clear arousal. They got back in the car and drove like hell back home, trying to save every romantic part of the night for the bedroom.

                “I might just fuck you against the front door,” Derek said, grabbing Stiles’ shoulders.

                “We can’t do that, the neighbors will give me judgy looks, and they are really nosy, and I can’t keep coming back to my own house without them giving me the ‘I no longer have virgin eyes’ look,” Stiles unlocked the door and Derek grabbed Stiles, shut and locked the front door, and ran up the stairs as they got situated in the bedroom. Stiles started to strip his shirt off, and wriggled his pants off of his ankles before crawling inside the sheets of his bed. Derek sat on the edge of the bed, pulling his insanely tight shirt off of his enormous abs.

                “I love you,” Derek cooed, sending goose bumps up Stiles’ spine.

                “I love you too,” He then pulled off his boxers and threw them to the side of the bed, as did Derek, and they were as close as two people could get. The room was hot and heavy as their hips moved at the same pace and they ended up becoming one person instead of two separate bodies. When they were done, Stiles wiped the sweat off of his face, still panting.

                “Did I take your breath away?”

                “As always,” Stiles cleaned himself up and grabbed his boxers, sliding them up his sweaty legs, and then snuggled into Derek’s pillow-like biceps. Derek sent love bites all the way up Stiles’ arm to his neck, and Stiles clinged closer to him, grabbing a fistful of his hair and kissing him, his head upside down, but it was still just as enjoyable as it usually was. Then, he fell asleep, cradled in Derek’s arms.

                                ~~~*~~~

                Stiles woke up to see that Derek was gone, but that he had used a green post-it note to stick a note to Stiles’ forehead.

                Knew your dad was going to come, and I wanted to leave before getting shot up. I love you!

                Stiles stuck the post-it to his nightstand and got up, immediately knowing that he didn’t feel good. He went straight to the bathroom where he sat and threw up for a while, and then, when nothing else would come out, he laid on the coolness of the tiles in the bathroom, grabbing the pair of sweatpants he had only worn for a couple of hours, along with a sweatshirt that was right outside his bathroom, laying on his desk chair. He threw them on and attempted to crawl back to his bed, but he only got to about the foot of it before his stomach flipped and he grabbed the blanket from his bed and ran over to the toilet, throwing up more. He groaned and sat on the bathroom floor, cuddled in his fuzzy blanket, and fell asleep.

                Stiles was being woken up by his father, and realized that he was sitting in his dad’s lap now. His dad had dragged him out of the bathroom and he was now sitting in the middle of his room.

                “Stiles?” He looked up at his dad, who looked very genuinely concerned. “Are you okay?” Stiles felt like he was about to cry. He really didn’t. He felt like death. He wanted to die he felt so bad.

                “My-my stomach hurts really badly, and I keep throwing up, and I have a headache, and I’m cold,” Stiles stuttered the words out. He hadn’t been this sick in a while, not since before his mom passed. “I-I want mom,” Slipped his lips, and he started to cry, wiping his cheeks with the back of his hands.

                “Do you want me to call Melissa?” Stiles nodded as John pulled out his phone. Stiles buried is face into his dad’s chest, everything hurting. He wanted the comfort from his mom, her gentle kiss on his forehead, her soft hand drifting down his cheek, he wanted it all back, and he never realized how much he really wanted it until now. John finally shut his phone and rubbed Stiles’ back. “Melissa is on her way, okay?” Stiles was still crying. He didn’t feel good at all. John still sat with Stiles, rubbing his back, and leaning in to bury him in his arms.

                “I-is Melissa here yet?” Just as Stiles said that, they heard her come in the front door. She came in and looked in his room and immediately joined John on the floor. Then, Stiles got sick all over the floor.

                “Oh, Stiles honey,” Melissa grabbed Stiles and pecked a kiss on his forehead, similar to what his mom did. “John, do you mind getting in my bag and pulling out that pink bottle?” John dug in Melissa’s bag and pulled it out. Melissa unscrewed the cap and handed it to Stiles. “It’ll settle your stomach,” He took a big drink, feeling like he was going to vomit again, but he didn’t. The anticipation that he was going to get sick again made everything hurt worse. “There we go, that’s better isn’t it?” Stiles nodded, wiping more tears from his face. John picked up Stiles and put him back in his bed, throwing a couple of blankets over him, and Melissa pulled out a thermometer from her bag and checked Stiles’ temperature. He closed his eyes for a couple of seconds and opened them, wishing he would just go to sleep. “No temp. Hmm, I wonder what this is about,” She put her cool hand on Stiles’ check and he closed his eyes again.

                “Should I make him some soup?”  
                “It wouldn’t hurt. If he can’t keep that down, we might take him to the hospital, I don’t really know what’s wrong. It might be stress, but it doesn’t look like he has food poisoning,” Melissa brushed Stiles’ hair back for several minutes and he fell back asleep.

                Stiles awoke to his dad and Melissa still at the side of his bed. Melissa held a bowl of soup and slowly spooned it into his mouth. Stiles kept it down and continued to slowly drink it from the spoon. His head still hurt and his stomach still wasn’t on great terms with him, but once he drank the rest of the soup, he felt better and fell back to sleep.

                Stiles woke up hours later and looked at the time. It was 12:00 am. His stomach still felt flipped around and he ran to the bathroom were he threw up the soup he had hours before. He got a towel and wiped his mouth. He ended up going back to sleep, cuddling in his blanket and what felt like something familiar that Stiles hadn’t felt in a while: his mother’s college sweatshirt. He balled it up and wrapped his arms tightly around it, smelling the last remains of his mother.

                Stiles grabbed his blankets and pulled them closer over him and opened his eyes slightly to see his dad tugging on the sleeve of Stiles’ sweatshirt.

                “C’mon buddy, we need to get you up,” Stiles pulled the blankets back down and attempted to get out of bed, and ended up collapsing on the ground. His dad picked him up and took him down the stairs and put him in the car. He fastened his seatbelt and got in the driver’s side of the cruiser.

                “Where are we going?” Stiles said quietly, but John still heard him.

                “The hospital, you still look like shit,” Stiles fell into the embrace of the car seat and watched as his dad carried him into the hospital, where he was set on a gurney and wheeled back.

                                ~~~*~~~

                “Stiles?” Stiles heard Derek’s voice and blinked awake to see that he was in the hospital.             

                “The fuck is this?” He said irritably, pushing himself up to a sitting position. He pulled the covers up a little bit and felt Derek’s warm hand on his, black sludge going up his veins. “How did I get here?”

                “You were sick, and you were throwing your guts up, and you weren’t eating anything,”

                “When can I leave?” He said, laughing a little bit.

                “I don’t know, you’re going to be here a little longer than you’d hope,” Stiles’ dad came waltzing into the room.   

                “Derek, do you mind giving me and Stiles a little alone time to talk?” Derek seemed to know what they were talking about, and left the room.

                “Why did you want Derek to leave?”

                “Because I’m about to tell you something you don’t want to know,” Stiles sat quietly, waiting for his dad to finish. “They did some tests on why you weren’t feeling good, and they determined that it was caused by stomach cancer,” Stiles didn’t know what to say. Hot tears started streaming down his face, and he silently hiccupped a cry. John looked out the window of the room to see Derek, knowing he was listening in. He motioned for Derek to come back in, and Derek sat next to Stiles, and Stiles leaned over and cried into Derek’s shoulder.

                “I know, I know. It’s unfair,” Derek said with a straight of a face as he could. “Everything right now is unfair, it’s okay,” Stiles hugged Derek and didn’t let go of him for at least an hour. Finally, Stiles said something.             

                “Do, do you still love me?” His eyes were still watery.

                “Of course, why would you ask such a thing?”

                “Because I’m broken. That’s all I am.” Stiles said seriously. “All I am is a dysfunctional teenager with dementia and cancer, and you can have anyone you want,”

                “Well, I’m broken too, okay? We’re broken. That’s why we go together so well. We fix each other, and its okay. The only person I want, and will ever want, is you,” Stiles leaned closer to Derek, almost falling off of the bed. He grabbed Derek’s hand and scooted over on the bed and pulled Derek onto the bed with him, burying his face in his chest. Stiles still had an overwhelming amount of emotion, and he still wanted his mom, but he kind of gave up on that, knowing that she wasn’t coming back.

                “Derek?” Stiles said tiredly, looking up.

                “Yes?”

                “I know you’ve been here all day, and you can go home if you want,”

                “I’m staying,” Derek protested, wrapping his arm around Stiles.

                “No, I’m serious. Just go back to your house, take a shower, get some food, take a nap, do something for a while, you don’t have to be here the whole time,” Derek nodded and slowly got out of the bed, giving Stiles’ hand one last squeeze before exiting the room. A couple minutes after Derek left, Scott came running in. He stopped a couple feet into the room, wriggled his nose, and any little bit of hope left on his face fell instantly.

                “No.” he said, gritting his teeth. “This can’t happen,” He ran over to Stiles and hugged him, hugged him harder than he did when Stiles got his MRI. “I told you we would do something, and we’re going to solve this right now,” Scott grabbed Stiles’ wrist and pulled it closer to his mouth

                “Scott stop!” Stiles ripped his wrist away. “They said it’s in an early stage, and that with a couple rounds of chemo, it should be gone. If it’s not gone, I’ll take the bite, okay?” Scott nodded his head as small as he could.

                “It’s not fair!” He screamed, tears now streaming down his face. Stiles grabbed his friend and let him cry into his shoulder. “It’s not fair! I don’t know how I’m supposed to go on if something happens. It’s always been you and me. It was us when you broke your arm at the river, it was you and me, when we ‘borrowed’ that four wheeler when we went camping to realize it was the park rangers, or even the night of the dead body, it was you and me. I always thought it would be you and me against the world. It was supposed to be me and you against the world. And I don’t know how I’m going to handle the freshman on the lacrosse team, because you do a better job with them, and I don’t know how I’m going to handle being an alpha without and advisor, because you’re always one step ahead of everyone else, and…” Scott paused and lifted his head. “You can’t leave me dammit!” He shoved his face back into Stiles and grabbed a handful of his hospital robe.

                “I won’t leave if I can control it Scott. We’ll figure something out, okay?” Scott sniffled and wiped more hot tears off of his face with the hem of his shirt.

                “Okay,”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The pack gains a new and inexperinced Beta, while Stiles starts chemo. There is also a Stilinski family break down, or, the family finds out about the cancer

Stiles went home three days later. He was feeling a lot better physically, but emotionally, he still couldn’t put everything into perspective. After all, he was normal Stiles, and he was going to act like normal Stiles, keep it a secret from everyone, because he wasn’t going to let people throw a pity party for him, because he was fine. Well, he would be fine. The only people that knew remotely anything was Scott and Derek. Stiles had even threatened his dad not to tell the rest of the family until later, or if something went down during Christmas Dinner when the whole family went up to Mt. Shasta at Stiles’ grandma’s house. Christmas was in four weeks. That was enough time to look relatively normal. He would be fine.

                “Do you want anything to eat?” His dad asked as Stiles slumped down on the couch. For the first time in a while, Stiles actually had an appetite.

                “Chicken nuggets,” He said, completely seriously. “And tater tots,” John rolled his eyes a little bit and got a pan from under the stove. Stiles went back upstairs. Being in his room just made him feel better, and he had his own pillow here, so no more awful restless nights. He immediately picked up the music on his desk and looked at it, only having to finish the bridge. He already had an idea on how it was going to go, and he quickly worked out the chords he was thinking about, and they all fit. He quickly wrote them down and got out the mic from his desk drawer and plugged it into his computer. The cord to the mic was really long, so he was able to stretch it all the way over to his keyboard with no problems. He clipped it on the music stand on the keyboard and played the chords, humming the words in his head. Once he did the chords, he went back over to his computer and made corrections to the audio file, and then pulled it over to his GarageBand application. He then grabbed his guitar and recorded the chords of that and layered the file on top of the piano chords. So far it was sounding really good. He was excited about how everything was coming together so well, and Stiles was also glad that he took AP Music Theory as a filler class, considering he had all of his high school credits finished after junior year, but he didn’t want to graduate early.

                “Food’s ready!” His dad yelled downstairs. Stiles saved his piece and went back downstairs, grabbing his plate off of the kitchen counter and pouring ketchup on the side of them. He sat in the living room with his dad where they ate their late lunch. His dad was watching the news, slowly sipping at a soda. He looked over at Stiles and handed him a prescription bottle and his soda.

                “What’s this?”

                “It’ll calm your stomach so you can actually enjoy your food,” Stiles shrugged and pulled out a pill and swallowed it with the drink from the soda. He handed the can back to his dad, along with the bottle and continued to eat his chicken nuggets.

                “They’re having after school lacrosse practice today, is it okay if I just go and coach? They need me dad,” John looked like he was debating this as he took another swig of his soda.

                “If you’re up for it, but take it easy until Monday, okay? We don’t want you getting sick,” Stiles nodded. He finished the tater tots left on his plate and then stuck it in the dishwasher, heading downstairs. He walked into their unfinished basement, seeing his drum set and electric guitar set up for when Scott and he would go downstairs for a jam session. He quickly sat on his short stool behind the drum set and set his phone on his lap, recording the beat he wanted to insert in the back of his song. Once he was finished, he went back upstairs and inserted the drum beat into the sound file and then grabbed the microphone and sang the lyrics, and then put that in the file too. He listened to it a couple of times, made some minor fixes, and then burned it to a disk. He put the disk in a nice looking case he happened to have and packed some more lacrosse stuff before he decided to leave.

                “I’ll be back later dad, I have to drop something by Derek’s house and I’m heading back to school,”

                “Okay, be careful,” Stiles drove pretty fast over to Derek’s house, hitting minimal traffic lights, and still having more than enough time to head back to school for lacrosse practice. He went up the stairs to the industrial building and knocked on the door. He watched as Derek slid the large door open, looking like he had just gotten up.

                “Hey,” Stiles said, handing him the CD with a bow stuck to the top. “Happy anniversary!” Derek took the CD and opened it up. “What is it?”

                “It’s a little something I made for you,” Derek went over to his TV and stuck the CD in the DVD player and played it. Stiles walked in and sat next to Derek on the couch. The song started, and Derek seemed very pleased. Then, once Stiles started singing, Derek’s face changed from neutral to a bright smile as they listened on. When the song was finally over, Derek just sat there, unable to find the words to express it, and threw his arms over Stiles, pressing soft, rose pedal-like kisses all the way up his neck to his ear before whispering, “I loved it. And you,” Stiles and Derek locked lips and Derek took his thumb and traced Stiles’ face.

                “I’m also giving you that book for our anniversary, it is happening and you cannot convince me otherwise,” Derek shook his head, letting out a small laugh.

                “You’re just so hard-headed.” Stiles got up and started to walk towards the door.

                “I have to go to lacrosse practice, need to help coach the team by beating the shit out of Greenberg and telling the kids not to beat the shit out of each other,” Derek couldn’t hold in that laugh.

                “God, you would. I love you!”

                “I love you more!”  
                “I love you most!” Stiles waved to Derek as he pulled the door closed on the apartment and went back to his Jeep, heading back to school. He hauled his lacrosse stuff out of the back of the car and walked over to the locker rooms, knowing he was early and school wasn’t out yet. He went inside and unlocked his locker in the locker room. He threw some stuff in there and then shut the locker. He turned back around to sit on the locker room bench and was met with Coach Finstock.

                “Where the hell have you been lately Stilinski?” He asked, Stiles sat down on the bench.

                “I’ve been sick, but I felt better this afternoon and I decided I was going to help out with practice, if that’s okay,”

                “Are you going to play the big game next week?” Stiles had almost forgotten about the game. Shit. Was he going to play?” 

                “Well, I don’t know, it all depends on what my dad says. You might email him,” Coach shrugged his shoulders.

                “Okay,” The bell rang and people flooded inside of the locker room. Stiles patiently waited for Scott to come, so he could talk to him. He saw Danny walk in and stare at him. Danny set his stuff down and walked over to Stiles.

                “Hey, are you doing okay?” Danny sat next to him.

                “Did Scott tell you anything?” Danny nodded. “Traitor. I told him to tell NO ONE,”

                “Well, he’s been pretty stressed out about, everything. He ran out of one of his classes Monday, it was bad,” Stiles felt kind of guilty for making his friend feel like this, but if he had any control of himself, he wouldn’t’ve done it. He didn’t like making his friends feel bad like that, but he couldn’t always control it.

                “God, I wish he would just tell me this shit,” Stiles said kind of angrily. “Oh well, please don’t say anything to anyone,”

                “Okay,” Danny bumped Stiles’ shoulder and went back over to his locker. Scott came running in, throwing his stuff down and unlocking his locker. He quickly got dressed, not seeing Stiles. Stiles grabbed his phone and checked the time before waiting for everyone else to go out on the field. He saw Scott turn around and see him sitting there.

                “Stiles, what the hell are you doing here?”

                “Relax, I’m just captaining, and I had nothing else to do today,”

                “But you just went home today,”

                “Pfsshh, whatever. I’m fine. I haven’t thrown up since I’ve been home, and I don’t feel bad, so I mean, might as well be here other than cursing out ten year olds on Call of Duty Ghosts on Xbox Live,” Scott didn’t think that was a reasonable answer.

                “Seriously, take it easy, I don’t want you getting sick,” Scott pressed grabbing Stiles’ shoulders.

                “Seriously, I’m fine, don’t make such a big deal about it,” he pulled out a whistle from his pocket and put it around his neck. “I’m definitely doing this,” The team went out onto the field, and sat on the bench and waited for the team to warm up. He still had the hospital bracelet around his wrist and tried to rip it off with his teeth, but it wouldn’t come off. “Scott!” Stiles went walking over to Scott who was finishing lacing up his lacrosse stick. “Take this off,” Scott tore the bracelet off with ease.

                “Stiles?” One of the freshman tapped him on the shoulder.

                “Yes,”

                “Seriously, are you okay?”

                “Yeah fine, why do you ask?”

                “Well, you’re having Scott take off a hospital band, you haven’t been at school in like a week, and you look exhausted,” Stiles rolled his eyes.

                “Seriously, Landon, I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong,” He still stared Stiles down and he hoped that Landon would just except that answer and leave.

                “You’re a really bad liar,” He said, crossing his arms.

                “Scott!” Scott came running over. “Have you been telling the status of my health to people other than Danny?”

                “No…”

                “Will you please tell Landon that I am fine?”

                “Landon, he’s fine.” Scott hesitated a little bit before the word fine. “Now go play goal, we’re starting,” Scott ordered. Landon ran across the field and got in the goal box. “Okay everyone, today we are going to learn how to properly defend during a game. You can be rough, but only with reason,” Scott started. “Allow us to demonstrate,” Scott pretended to catch the ball in his net and Stiles bumped into him as hard as he could and grabbed the imaginary ball out of the net.

                “See?” Stiles said, Scott putting the stick on the ground. The team nodded, following their orders. “And the championship game is next week, and we need to keep in check, okay?” They nodded, and Scott started up a practice game, the kids doing surprisingly good.

                “That was nice,” Scott commented at everything. The game was going really smoothly. There was occasional aggression, but overall everyone had a lot of respect for each other, something that Stiles wished would have happened when he joined the team. Even though some of the members of the team weren’t Stiles’ favorite (cough, cough, Greenberg), everyone was working like a team should.

                Practice finally ended and Stiles headed home, watching TV and waiting for his dad to get home from finishing up a few things at the station. He heard someone coming down from upstairs, and to his unsurprised, saw Derek, walking down the stairs, wearing a tight pair of jeans and a light blue Henley t-shirt. He slumped down on the couch next to Stiles and curled up next to him.

                “Look, it’s my favorite whittle puppy!” Stiles said, brushing his fingers through his hair. “What do you wanna watch?”

                “I don’t care,”

                “Batman and Robin it is,” Stiles picked up his Xbox controller and turned on the cartoon, watching a couple of episodes. Stiles would always add commentary to all of the episodes, and he ended popping a bowl of popcorn for him and Derek to share. They were almost done with the bowl when the doorbell rang. “I’ll be right back,” Stiles got up and opened the door to see Landon, standing there at the door.

                “Landon, what the hell are you doing here? How did you get my address?”

                “Scott gave it to me, I wanted to talk with you, is this a bad time?” Stiles looked back in at Derek, who was contently watching Batman and Robin, and most likely listening in on their conversation.

                “What do you think Derek?”

                “Its fine,” Stiles opened the door and offered Landon to come in. Landon sat awkwardly on the other couch and Stiles took the chair.

                “Is that your boyfriend?” He asked, pointing towards Derek, who was now reading a book.

                “Yeah, that’s Derek. Anyway, what did you want to talk about?” Landon made this face, like he didn’t know what to say, then he finally took a deep breath and spoke.

                “I know something’s up with you,” He said. “I can feel it on you, you’re sick,” Stiles looked awkwardly at him, not knowing what to say.

                “Okay, so I may be a little under the weather,”

                “What’s your definition of under the weather? Cancer?” Stiles stopped dead in his tracks.

                “Well, since you’ve got dirt on me, I bet I can get dirt on you too,” Stiles looked over at Derek who closed the book and looked up. “You’re a werewolf.” Landon’s face froze with panic and he started hysterically laughing.

                “What? Werewolves don’t exist!” Stiles looked back over at Derek and smiled. Derek stared at Landon and glowed his eyes blue. “Oh, so, you know,”

                “Yeah, I do know,”

                “Please don’t tell Scott,”

                “Scott’s an alpha, Landon, he probably already knew,” Landon looked flabbergasted that they actually knew. “What are you anyway? An omega?”

                “Yes,” He replied, ashamed. “My pack was in the area, and they left without me. They never really wanted me with them,” He kicked his feet under the couch and then stood up. “I just came over to see if you were okay,”

                “I’m fine, thank you for coming, see you tomorrow,” Landon walked out and Stiles shut the door.

                “He reminds me of you,” Derek said, turning the TV up a little more. “We should consider having him join the pack,” Stiles threw the idea around in his head. They were trying to grow the pack, and Landon really as a good kid, and it was something to consider.

                “I’ll talk it over with Scott, but for right now, I just want to enjoy the rest of the night,” Stiles curled closer next to Derek and ended up falling asleep in his arms.

                                ~~~*~~~

                “Stiles?”

                “Mhrrp?” Stiles got up, realizing that Derek was still asleep under him. “God, what time is it?”

                “Time for you to go to school,” His dad said, handing him a cup of coffee. “Why’s Derek still here?”

                “He fell asleep. Please don’t bother him dad,”

                “I won’t. If he makes my son happy, I’m happy,” Stiles went up to his room to throw on some fresh clothes and grab his backpack. He then brushed his teeth and put a little gel in his hair to push his messy bangs out of his face and he went back downstairs. “Remember your first chemo treatment is Tuesday,” His dad said, eating on a bagel with cream cheese.

                “Yeah, I know,” Stiles grabbed his phone and his keys and headed to school, picking up Scott on the way. He pulled in Scott’s driveway and saw him come running out, attempting to sling his backpack over his shoulder, his shoelaces still untied. He slid into the Jeep and threw his backpack behind him and put his foot up on the dash to tie his shoes.

                “Get your feet off of Roscoe! He doesn’t like that,” Scott rolled his eyes and leaned down to tie his other shoe.

                “Roscoe loves me, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Scott said, leaning back in his seat.

                “Roscoe doesn’t appreciate when you bleed all over him. Stiles doesn’t appreciate it either,” Stiles said in third person, because he knew it annoyed Scott. “And by the way, since I have free period today, do you want to go off campus for lunch?”

                “Let’s do it, are you going to invite Lydia?”

                “Lydia already left early on winter vacation,” Stiles said, turning into his parking spot.

                “Oh, well, I never have any classes with her anymore. Okay, well, meet here?”

                “Yeah, definitely.” Stiles got out of the car and headed towards his first hour, where he sat and listened to the lecture with a dead brain. He didn’t really want to do anything the rest of the day, but he knew he had to catch up on his lessons, even though if he failed any of his classes, it wouldn’t matter anyway because they were just filler classes. At the end of the lesson, he asked the teacher for his missing assignments, and she said not to worry about and that she would just excuse him from it. So the perks start. He went to second hour which was Harris’ class, where he sat next to Scott as usual. He took notes as Harris talked and talked. The only problem about his class is that it was hard to focus on his lecture, because he didn’t stop talking, and then you had a quiz over it later that week. It was incredibly irritating and unfair, but there was nothing anyone could do about it, but pray that they got good grades on those dumb little quizzes.

                “Mr. Stilinski,” He heard Mr. Harris say.

                “Yes sir,”

                “What is a chemical compound most used in our life right now?”

                “Well, Ano3 is pretty common to make explosions, and corned beef, which is pretty good, but I would have to go with H2O,”

                “I’m surprised Mr. Stilinski,” He said, walking circles at the front of the room. “I didn’t think you would answer that with two reasonable answers, have you changed since you’ve been gone?”

                “No sir,” Stiles used sir at the end of everything when he was secretly pissed. It was kind of a “kill them with kindness” thing, and Scott was catching on.

                “Where were you Mr. Stilinski, on the days you were absent? Because I saw you last night with the lacrosse team,”

                “I was sick, and Coach made me come on Thursday because I had missed too many practices that week,” Scott leaned over to Stiles and whispered in his ear.

                “Just forget it, okay?” Stiles shook his head. Harris dropped the topic and Stiles leaned back in his chair to try to get through the rest of the class without murdering anyone. Once they got through and hour and a half of Harris’ class, they left for lunch, going to Arby’s for their curly fries. They sat at one of the booths, waiting for their order to be called, and Stiles decided they should talk about whether or not to consider letting Landon join the pack.

                “So, did you know that Landon is a wolf?” Scott started, sipping at his soda.

                “Yeah, I knew, but I didn’t think he knew I knew,”

                “You would be correct. He came to my house tonight and I called him out on it, and long story short, he’s an omega and his pack left him. Derek and I were considering letting him join the pack, because, we do need to get more pack members, and also more of a difference in age group would help when making decisions, and also, the kid’s not dumb. Look at his classes he’s taking, he’s two years ahead in math, he’s taking all honors classes, and his school record is nearly flawless. I mean we should consider it. Derek thought it was a good idea,”

                “You don’t have to convince me Stiles, I mean, we can ask him if he wants to join, he would be a good addition to our pack, I agree with you, but we also need to train him. Are you up for that?”

                “At this point I’m up for anything,” Their food was called and Stiles got the tray as they dug into the curly fries and sandwiches. They ate their stuff pretty fast and just sat. They were pretty much done for the day, and didn’t have practice today, so they ended up staying for a while.

                “Do you want to go see that new Batman movie tonight?”

                “No, Derek and I went and saw it last weekend,” Stiles said, fantasizing about the wonderful night.

                “What are we going to do now?”

                “We can play Xbox back at my house,” Stiles offered. Scott agreed and they went back to Stiles’ house. When Stiles opened the front door, he saw Derek folding up the blanket they were cuddled in last night and putting it on the back of the couch.

                “What are you doing home so early? Are you cutting class?”

                “Relax, it’s free periods the rest of the day, and instead of awkwardly sitting in the library, we came here. Oh, and also, I convinced Scott that we should ask Landon to join the pack,”

                “We could do that tonight,” Scott said. “We could invite him over and explain everything to him to see if he wants to join in,”

                “Might as well,” Derek said, sitting back on the couch.

                “What are we supposed to tell him?”

                “I guess we’ll figure it out,”

                                ~~~*~~~

                The doorbell rang and they opened the door to see Landon, waving off whoever had dropped him off. He awkwardly walked in the room and sat next to Scott on the other couch, Stiles and Derek sitting on the main couch.

                “So, why did you guys want me to come here?” Landon tapped his fingers on the armrest of the sofa.

                “We have a proposal,” Stiles started clearing his voice. “We have proposed that, if you want, we are letting you join our pack,” Landon wrinkled his nose.

                “’Our pack’?  What do you mean? You’re human,”

                “Landon, just because he’s human doesn’t mean he’s not a part of the pack. We also have a banshee in our pack, but she’s gone,”

                “Whoa, seriously?”

                “Yes seriously!” Stiles said. “I used to have a crush on her since the third grade! But anyway, what do you think?”

                “Well, it is a lot to take in, and I’m kind of tired of being weak,” Landon said, straightening his back.

                “There are conditions though,” Scott said, his tone becoming serious. “We need to train you to do things on our pack’s terms. There are dos and don’ts that we follow, and we are very serious about too,” Landon nodded. “We follow the Argent’s code. We help those who cannot help themselves. We do not kill people unless we have to, we do not go against the pack, and the pack is for life. And we have a uniqueness about this pack,”

                “Scott is the alpha, yet he is a true alpha, which is very rare,” Landon’s eyes widened as he went on. “Another thing is that a lot of people have died being in our pack, but they did it to save others. Allison, Erica, Boyd, and Aiden, just to name off a few. We need to expand our pack to make us less vulnerable, as shown by the attack on Stiles a couple of weeks ago, we need more protection, and that’s why we asked you. We don’t care about skill, because, as you can ask anyone in the pack, we are still inexperienced and we are learning as we go around. You don’t need to be the strongest or the smartest, or the ruthless, you need to have a good opinion on things, and think of others before yourself. Are you capable of this?” Logan didn’t say anything for a while and then finally responded.

                “Yes sir,”

                “You do not call me sir. I am not your sir, I’m your pack member,”

                “I’m sorry Derek,”

                “It’s fine. It’s all a part of the learning process. So, do you understand?”

                “Yes,”

                “Okay, well, that’s it. Congratulations,”  
                “Wow that was pretty fast. Thank you guys,” Landon was smiling now. He reminded Stiles of a younger version of himself, but more focused. Stiles was a little envious of that, because if he was as focused as Logan, he might have read more books, done more things without losing interest, lots of things. “You know, I just moved here at the beginning of the school year. My mom convinced me to do lacrosse, but I didn’t know if I would fit in, and when I made the team, I was ecstatic, but I still didn’t really have any friends. I didn’t really belong anywhere, but coming here tonight, it felt right. It felt like I belonged,” Stiles was touched by that, knowing exactly how he felt.

                “Do you want to hear some pack stories?” Landon’s face lit up and he sat eagerly as they told every single story, starting from the beginning when Scott got bit, but adding the part about Kate Argent burning the Hale house right before that. He seemed so interested in their stories, even the dumb ones that Derek would roll his eyes at, but maybe that’s why Landon fit in so well. He was just a freshman at Beacon Hills, but it was like he brought back a spark that the pack didn’t know they were losing, a spark they didn’t have since they had Erica, Boyd, and Isaac.

                Eventually, the doorbell rang and Stiles answered it, seeing a woman who Stiles assumed was Landon’s mom standing at the door.

                “I’m here to pick up Landon,” Stiles nodded, knowing that Landon probably heard her.

                “Hey Landon, I wanted to give you some books I had,” Stiles said. They had talked about having him analyze a few of the books for them, and he was excited to do it.

                “Oh yeah, I almost forgot, do you mind if I go and get those?”

                “Go ahead,” Stiles said, Logan running upstairs. “Would you like to come in Mrs. Smith?”

                “Sure,” She walked in and stood in the doorway. “So, you and Scott are captains of the lacrosse team,” She tried to make small talk.

                “Yes ma’am, we just wanted to invite Landon over to see if he wanted to hang out with us,”

                “Well, I trust you, considering your dad is the Sheriff. Scott, what does your mom do?”

                “She’s a nurse over at Beacon Hills Hospital,” Scott responded and walked to the fridge and grabbed a beer. Stiles saw that he had grabbed that and gave him the evil stare until he put a can cuzzie over it to cover the label. Landon came back down with the books.

                “Ready kiddo?” Landon nodded. “Thank you for having him over!”

                “Any time!”

                “Bye Scott, bye Stiles, bye Derek!” Landon said before they left, and shut the door.

                “I’m pretty confident in this,”

                “I am too,”

                                ~~~*~~~

                Monday, Stiles was allowed to participate in practice after school.

                “Might as well if you might be feeling sick on Tuesday,” And Stiles didn’t argue. He was really happy that his dad actually agreed with him on doing something, something he hadn’t done in a while, and it’s not like he didn’t want to, but it was more of a “I’m the only last living parent and I have to protect my sick child” kind of way. Stiles, even though being out of the game for a couple weeks, was still doing pretty good. He got a couple of goals and by the end of practice, he wasn’t feeling sick, so everyone was winning, but he knew that the shallow victory wouldn’t last too long, knowing that after tomorrow, he would be back to being tired, sick, and looking like death. He wasn’t looking forward to it at all, but he was looking forward to getting better without the help of the supernatural. Peter was right, Stiles still kind of did cling onto his humanity.

                “Hey, Stiles, I read through that one Latin book you gave me to read, and my god, it’s like translating it twice, it was written in old English terms and is really formal and not very straightforward,”

                “Hey, I let you choose from the box and that’s one of the ones you chose. Do you have the information written down?”

                “Yes sir,” Landon saluted jokingly at Stiles. “Oh, and by the way, good luck tomorrow,” He said, bumping Stiles on the shoulder.

                “Did Scott tell you that too?” Landon nodded his head. “Well, maybe Scott needs to learn when to shut his fucking mouth, huh? I know you can hear me Scott,” Stiles turned around to see Scott staring at him. Scott shrugged his shoulders and pulled his lacrosse bag higher on his shoulder. “Just get in the car,” Scott ran up behind Stiles and then followed him to the Jeep. Stiles dropped Scott off at his house and Stiles went back home, took a shower, and settled in early, getting a little more reading done on his thick book, which he was now halfway through.

                Stiles woke up to his alarm, the Italian book still sitting on his face from where he had supposedly left it. He did his normal morning routine He did this all faster than he usually did, having enough time to actually enjoy his cup of coffee and a bowl of cereal. His dad had already left, saying that he had to go in earlier in order to take off earlier for his first chemo treatment. Melissa had kind of prepared him on what to expect, so he brought his sketchpad, colored pencils, phone charger, and that Italian book to pass the time. Scott drove himself to school so he wouldn’t have to take the bus home, so Stiles got to school a little earlier than he usually did with Scott, getting there at the time he preferred. He sat in his first hour, texting away on his phone and also scrolling through Twitter. He waited for the bell to ring before putting his phone on silent and slipping it in his sweatshirt pocket. Stiles didn’t have any classes with Scott today, considering it was a B day. Their school was set up with four classes a day, each one and a half hours long, and the next day you had the other four classes, and they alternated as such. Stiles went through his college algebra class with ease, getting the correct answers on the equations posted on the board. The next class he had was AP Music theory, and the teacher happened to be out and all they did was watch a movie. They ended watching Dream Girls, which wasn’t that bad of a movie, well, the parts he paid attention to and didn’t text through.

                **This class is boring** -He texted Scott

                **At least you get to watch a movie. This English class is never going to end!**

**English is easy, I don’t know what your problem is**

**Being slashed the crap out of after a brawl is easy, I don’t know what your problem is**

**I see your point**

**Do you now?**

**Shut up.**

**Class is about to end. Are you nervous?**

**Nah. I’m good. Thanks though. Have fun staying here peasant**

**Under the circumstance, I would still rather be here**

**I know. I would too**

Stiles ended the conversation there, watching the last five minutes of the movie before the bell rang and he left the room. He checked into his study hall so he wouldn’t get an absence (after all, she was always lenient about that, even if Stiles blatantly told her that he wanted to go home and didn’t want to be there anymore, she just marked him there and he left), and last hour didn’t matter, because it was also free period, and he still had plenty of time, so he sat in his Jeep for a while.

                **Can I eat before this?** –Stiles texted his dad.

                **Yeah, you can, but I wouldn’t eat too much don’t wanna get sick**

Stiles still stopped by a fast food restaurant and got lunch before meeting his dad over at the hospital. He brought in his backpack so he could complete all of his homework and possibly do a little drawing. It took a while for a spot to open up. Apparently, the ideal time to get chemo for most people in town was during lunch. Whatever. Stiles sat there patiently until a blonde nurse walked him and his dad back over to a chair in the crowded room, where they put in an IV (Stiles looked away as to not pass out) and they ran the amber-looking liquid through the IV and into his system. They said it would take about three hours and left. Stiles sat in the chair, pulling out his sketchbook. He flipped through a couple of pages that he had drawn on already and started on a clean page, sketching lines around the paper.

                “Whatcha drawing?” His dad asked, leaning over him.

                “Wolf.” He said, continuing to sketch the lines, the animal more and more visible.

                “Is that Derek?”

                “Maybe…” Stiles continued to draw the wolf until he got bored of it and closed the sketchpad. He still had like 45 minutes left, and he was ready to just be done. He pulled out his phone to see that Derek had left him a text.

                **Good luck, you’ll do fine! ILY!**

                Stiles’ face lit up in happiness. He could barely contain himself with the butterflies that were practically climbing out of his stomach into his throat. He let out a small excited squeal, his dad looking at him with the look of, “my son is 18 years old he shouldn’t be making noises like that”, but Stiles didn’t care. He ended up pulling the sketchbook back out and adding color to the drawing, signing his name near the wolf’s tale sloppily like he usually did, showed his dad.

                “Well, what do you think?” His dad looked at the sketchbook, a little confused on what to say. Stiles knew that his dad was never a man of art. Stiles had spent years dragging his father through art museums up and down the west coast, and also into art stores, gushing on and on about how the HB in this sketch pencil was at a higher quality compared to that sketch pencil, and John always just nodded his head, shrugged his shoulders and gave a confused “Sure?”. He still cared about his opinion on it though.

                “It looks really nice,” He said, brushing his thumb across it. “It looks real,” Stiles knew that it didn’t, considering in his opinion, the nose was too big, the claws weren’t defined, and the moon in the background had too many craters, but it was nice to see that his dad did genuinely enjoy it.

                Stiles ended up taking a power nap for about twenty minutes, waking back up to see his dad with his reading glasses attempting to read something on his phone. Stiles sometimes thought his dad was too old to use a smartphone, but he was also glad at his attempt to upgrade to more recent technology. A nurse came over and said that Stiles was done, pulling the needle from his skin (don’t look at it).

                “Wow, I don’t even feel that bad,” He said, getting up.

                “Well, it usually takes a day or so, and you won’t be feeling the best. You might also start to see your hair coming out,” Stiles nodded, brushing back through his hair with his fingers. He hadn’t even thought about is hair coming out. What would people say then? He couldn’t hide his sudden hair loss with the excuse of “even though I said I liked it better before, I actually wanted to cut it all off” because no one would believe him.

                “When is the next session anyway?” Stiles asked his dad as they were walking out the door.

                “It’s next week. Same day, same time.” Stiles got in his Jeep, his dad following him. “Are you okay to drive?”

                “I’ll be fine. See you at home.” Stiles was feeling a little tired, but not enough to the point he couldn’t drive home. He was a little tired of everyone babying the crap out of him, and he kind of wanted his independence back. He had plenty of independence when he was sneaking off to go find dead bodies. He had plenty of independence when he would want to go to a party, and now, being a legal adult of the United States, had no independence once so ever. He had never imagined his life like this. To be honest, he had never really imagined his life dramatically turning sophomore year, but things happen, and when everyone else’s worries were getting into college and making a good future, Stiles worried about making it to that point. “You Will” They all said, but Stiles wasn’t so sure anymore. That last glimmer of hope he had a couple of years ago was drowned, and in its place was a darkness that Stiles didn’t know he had.

                Stiles’ thinking distracted him, to the point he hadn’t realized that he had been sitting in his driveway for ten plus minutes. He pushed the door open and went in the house, sat on the couch, and played Xbox. There was something about killing people with a sniper rifle that cleared Stiles’ mind, and it was always a good cure for pretty much anything that wasn’t right. “I can be anything here,” He whispered, sniping another player in the head. “I can live forever.”

                                ~~~*~~~

                As to Mama McCall’s request, Stiles and his dad went over to their house for dinner, knowing that even if they had plans, they would be changed (no one likes a mad Mama McCall). She insisted that they not bring anything over, but before they left, Stiles quickly threw in a fudge cake with cream cheese icing, and they headed over to the McCall residence. When Melissa opened the door and saw that Stiles was carrying a pastry holder, she immediately hit him on the shoulder.

                “I told you not to bring anything,” She seemed slightly unhappy.

                “Its fudge cake with cream cheese icing. It’s your favorite…” Melissa’s eyes widened and she grabbed the pan from his hands.

                “Okay. Come on in,” They walked in and sat at the kitchen table, where the food was set out, including Melissa’s grilled chicken (Stile’s mouth was watering), her sour cream mashed potatoes (the smell of the food was nearly orgasmic) and some other stuff that Stiles didn’t care about because all he could look and smell was the chicken and mashed potatoes. Scott sat next to Stiles on one side of the table, passing the bowls of food around to everyone. “How did everything go today?” Melissa asked, scooping some corn onto her plate.

                “Fine,”

                “Still feeing okay?”

                “Uh, yeah. Fine.” Stiles said, stuffing his face with chicken. Scott was already finished with his plate and getting seconds. Stiles remembered when he and Scott had the same appetite, but since Scott was turned, he lost that battle, and could now not beat him in their “who can eat the most pizza” battle that they usually had at Scott’s birthday party. Once they were done, they sat around talking, like they usually did when they had dinner together. As the night went on, Stiles was getting more and more exhausted. He hadn’t even done anything, but it’s like everything hit him at once, and he was drifting fast. His dad could see it, and asked if he was ready to go home, to which he agreed and left with his dad. Once he got home, he immediately took a shower and then went to bed, inviting his stuffed wolf from the pier to come with him. It was almost as good as the real thing. Almost.

                Stiles woke up the next day, exhausted. He looked at his clock to see that it was way past the time he was supposed to go to school, but his dad must have shut off his alarm. He started to get dressed, but he decided to fuck it, and sat downstairs. Even though fatigue still pulled at his skinny body, he still wanted to do something. By the time he motivated himself to go back upstairs from laying lazily on the couch, he fell back asleep.

                The doorbell was what woke him up. He cursed under his breath and opened the door to see that Landon was standing there, a bike helmet under his arm.

                “Hey,” Stiles said, moving out of the doorway as Landon set his bike helmet on the counter and sat across from Stiles in the chair. “Why are you here? Not that it’s a lovely surprise,”

                “I just wanted to talk about some things. Scott was staying after school for help, and I don’t know Derek very well, or where he lives, and I didn’t want you to be mad at me for talking to him, and-.” Stiles had to cut him off.

                “No, its fine, what did you want to talk about?” Landon dug in his pocket and pulled out a list with fucking questions on it. The only person that Stiles knew who did that was, well, Stiles, and it kind of baffled him, but in a good way. Landon tried to talk but then ended up just handing him the paper.

                **Who is Jackson and why is he so important?**

**When is/is it okay to tell my family about this?**

**What happens if someone kills Scott?**

**What the hell is a “true alpha”?  
                Should I be concerned about the Argents?**

**Who is Deaton?**

**Can we trust said person?**

**What happens if I can’t control my wolf?**

Stiles could actually answer most of these questions.

                “Sorry, it’s just, my other pack was trying to kill me when they originally found me, but instead I didn’t die, and I kind of had to join their pack, but they never liked me, and they never told me anything, and I’ve only been a wolf for one full moon, and I haven’t changed since then, and I don’t know what to do,”

                “No, no, you are fine, okay? I’ll answer your questions. First, Jackson is this douchebag who Derek tried to turn, and then Jackson turned into a Kanima, and then back into a wolf, and then moved to London. As in telling your family, we’ll skip that one for now. If someone kills Scott, they become alpha. A true alpha is an alpha who didn’t have to kill to become head of the pack. The Argents are fine. Chris moved away after his daughter Allison/the love of Scott’s life was murdered. Deaton is our emissary, which means that he is basically our advisor, and he is very trustworthy, even though he is a little weird. And we will teach you how to control your wolf,” Landon seemed satisfied with this answer.

                “Okay. And why weren’t you at school today?”

                “Just a little tired. It doesn’t matter if I show up at school anyway, I already have enough credits to graduate. I just stayed another year so I could college scout and stuff,” Landon nodded.

                “About the family question,”

                “Honestly, we don’t try to tell anyone about it unless it is a life or death situation, okay?”

                “Okay, I was just asking, because, well, Jen is a control freak,”

                “Jen?”

                “She’s my stepmom. She’s never had kids, and she is somewhat strict on, well, everything, and I’ve kind of been lying to her on why I’ve been coming over here. I told her that you and Scott were giving me pointers on lacrosse,”

                “Is that working?”

                “Well, she seems to be buying it,”

                “Let’s stick with that. I’ll have everyone play along,” Landon nodded in agreement. Do you want like a soda or something?” Landon agreed and Stiles reached into the fridge and threw him a can. Landon was a pretty casual looking kid, even though he had a much more muscular frame than most 15 year olds should have (thank you Lycanthropy gene) and he had these bright blue eyes that were always curious about everything. His hair was about the same color as Stiles’, but just a little shorter, and he just, well, acted like Stiles, except less annoying and more focused. He was a little quieter than Stiles, and is taller that Stiles ever was. It kind of made Stiles slightly jealous, because if he didn’t have ADD, he might have been able to focus on school more, and be a little more studious.

                “When are we going to have like, I don’t know, a pack meeting?” Landon gulped down the rest of his soda and crushed the can in his skinny little fingers.

                “Well, sorry for having little action, but if you would have been here two years ago, then you would’ve know that we’re okay for staying out of the action for a bit. So, whenever we have an issue,” When Stiles finished, Scott walked in with a binder that he tossed on Stiles’ lap.

                “Your homework,”

                “Thanks. How was school by the way?”

                “Well, since you weren’t there, Lydia’s not there, and Danny doesn’t have the same lunch shift as me today, lonely,” He slumped down on the couch. “Hey Landon,”              

                “Hey,”

                “Don’t you have to work today?” Stiles flipped through the binder to see that he had a little bit of AP Music Theory homework and College Algebra, but other than that, really nothing.

                “Shit! Well, I gotta go then, thanks for reminding me,” Scott quickly got up and walked back out.

                “Does this usually happen with Scott?”

                “Constantly,”

                                ~~~*~~~

                Stile had now completed two more treatments, still overwhelmed with exhaustion after each one, but he hadn’t gotten sick from it yet. Once he got home, He took a shower. In the middle of washing his hair, he pulled his hands down to see that his hair was starting to fall out. It kind of scared him, but he just shrugged it off. The longer he stayed in the shower, the more irritated he got as more and more hair fell out, and he finally got out of the shower. He looked in the mirror to see that it wasn’t too noticeable, but he still didn’t like it. He threw a shirt over his head and threw on a pair of sweatpants before grabbing his phone and calling Derek.

                “Derek?”

                “Yes?”

                “It’s starting. My hair is fucking falling out. I knew it was going to happen eventually, but…”

                “Stiles, it’s okay. Do you want me to come over?”

                “Yes.”

                “Okay,” Stiles waited patiently for Derek to come over, tapping his fingers at his desk as he sat. He heard Derek come in from downstairs and ran upstairs to Stiles’ room.

                “I think you were over-exaggerating a bit, it’s not even that noticeable,” Derek said.

                “I want you to shave it,” He said, crossing his legs in the chair.

                “Shave your hair? Are you sure?”

                “It’s just going to get worse Derek, might as well solve the problem before it becomes a problem, right? I need to learn not to be emotionally attached to my hair. I mean, it is just hair, it will grow back at one point,”

                “Yeah, but you spent, what, two years trying to grow it out to that?”

                “You’re not helping, Derek. Please, just do this for me,” Derek sighed. Stiles walked him to the bathroom where he dug around under the sink for a razor. He found it and handed it to Derek before hopping up on the counter himself, staring at Derek. Derek plugged in the razor and held onto one of Stiles’ shoulders and turned on the razor. He made even strokes all the way up and down Stiles’ head until it was an even buzz cut, just like when Stiles was a sophomore. When Derek was finished, he turned off the razor and set it next to Stiles, who was feeling his hair. He turned around and looked in the mirror, seeming pleased with the result.

                “You still look beautiful,” Derek said, wiping the hair from Stiles’ shirt. “You’ve always been beautiful,” Stiles smiled at that a little wearily and hugged Derek. He didn’t let go for a while, grabbing handfuls of Derek’s shirt.

                “Will you stay here tonight with me?” Stiles loosened his grip around Derek and looked up into his bright green eyes.

                “Of course. And I have a feeling that this whole things isn’t just about hair,”

                “I’ve been thinking lately, what happens if nothing works? What happens if this doesn’t do anything, what happens when I die? I can’t leave my dad to fend for himself, he’s still not emotionally stable enough for that, and what about Scott, or you? What’s going to happen?” Derek didn’t have a response. “I don’t want you guys to be disappointed in me, and I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future, I don’t even know if I’m going to have a future. I know everyone always says ‘just give him the bite and everything will be fine’ but what if it doesn’t work? Either way, there’s a pretty big percentage of me staying here, and I don’t know what the hell is going to happen, and I’m scared Derek, okay? I’m scared to die! You don’t realize it until you put it all in perspective. Your teenage self says to just worry about it later, but what if there is no later? What the hell is going to happen?” Stiles now had tears streaming down his face as Derek cradled him in his arms.

                “Shh, it’s okay. You know what? No one ever really knows what’s going to happen, but we’re going to make the best of what we have, here and now. Okay? Because if you can kick a nogitsune’s ass, and a werewolf’s ass, then you should be able to defeat cancer no problem.” Derek gave him a bigger hug and petted his shortened hair. Stiles sniffled into Derek’s chest, who was now rubbing his back.

                “I love you,”

                “I love you too, and we’ll get thought this together, as a pack, okay?” Stiles nodded a little bit and released Derek.

                “I appreciate you being here. You don’t have to do any of this you know, you can have anyone you want,”

                “Yeah, well, I want you, gorgeous face and all,” Stiles laughed a little bit as Derek wiped the tears from his face with his thumb. He then snuck a kiss onto Stiles’ lips and looked up to see his face, smiling. Stiles grabbed his hand and pulled him into his room, Stiles crawling under his covers and adjusting himself on his side, and Derek laid next to him on top of his comforter, draping his arm over him and tracing his jaw line with his fingers.

                                ~~~*~~~

                “Dad, do you know how pissed they are going to be? I don’t want to go!” Stiles planted himself on the floor of his room, refusing to get up.

                “Seriously Stiles, you are acting like a child, and its Christmas for god’s sake! C’mon, you have to see the family,” John shook his head irritably.

                “Dad, I don’t wanna fucking go! You are not going to convince me otherwise,”

                “Stiles, do you know how much Grandma has been wanting you to come up? Huh? She’s been looking forward to it since thanksgiving! You know none of your other cousins are ever around, and also they are pretty shitty family members, and you are her pride and joy, just let her have this one, okay?”

                “I will go on one condition.”

                “What is that condition?”

                “That Derek comes with,”

                “Stiles, he can’t, it’s family Christmas, and we can’t just have him tag along!”

                “It’s not like we do gift exchange or anything anyway, and c’mon dad, Derek never gets to celebrate Christmas with his family, they’re dead. God, you’re acting like a heartless bastard!”

                “Look who’s talking! And can’t Derek have Christmas with Peter?”

                “Would you have Christmas dinner with Peter?” John chewed on the response for a while.

                “You have a point, but we have to leave in 20 minutes, and what is the family going to think about you being gay?”

                “Well, might as well, they can have a silver lining after we tell them the news they don’t wanna hear!”

                “No!”  
                “Yes!”

                “Stiles,”

                “Dad, I’m completely fucking serious. I will not leave this house until you let Derek come with,” John sighed, and Stiles knew he was wearing him down.

                “God, you know what? Fine, call Derek and tell him,” Stiles smiled, gave a silent victory by throwing his fists in the air, and went to his room to call Derek, who full heartedly agreed to come with him, and so far, everything was working flawlessly, just how Stiles had planned. Derek arrived momentarily and they all packed into the cruiser and headed north towards Mt. Shasta. It took them about four hours to get there, and once they arrived, Stiles awkwardly clicked his heels against the wood of his grandmother’s porch as Derek put his arm around Stiles’ shoulder.

                “It’ll be fine,”

                “You don’t know my family, it’s going to be fucking horrible,” Stiles kicked a stone that was on the porch, probably from their cousins having a rock fight before they arrived. Stiles missed having rock fights, but he was too old, and to vicious, usually nailing one of the smaller kids directly in the head. His dad knocked on the door, holding a large tub of potato salad they had gotten at the fresh produce market before they left. Thank god, his aunt Jane answered the door.

                “Oh, there they are! John!” She leaned into a hug with Stiles’ dad. “Stiles! And, a newcomer,”

                “That’s Derek, he’s my boyfriend,” Jane took a step back, not saying anything for a while.

                “Oh, well, that’s great, come in, wow, you cut your hair since Thanksgiving!” Jane finally said, moving out of the way of the door. Stiles walked in with Derek and they went outside on the porch where the rest of the family was sitting around a bonfire exchanging stories. They were all silent when Stiles walked in with Derek. They looked at him differently, and it kind of bothered him, but he and Derek found some empty lawn chairs and pulled them into the circle with the rest of the family.

                “Well, if it isn’t my grandson,” Stiles’ grandma set her hands on his shoulders and he got up and hugged her. “And my, did you decide to cut your hair? And you now have a strapping young lad with you too, what’s your friend’s name?”

                “That’s Derek, he’s my boyfriend,” Derek got up and extended his hand out to shake his grandma’s.

                “Nice to meet you Mrs. Stilinski,”

                “Nice to meet you too, Derek is it?”

                “Yes ma’am,” She smiled.

                “Well, it’s just in time, because dinner’s ready!” Everyone crowded inside the house where they weaved themselves though the living room to get to the extremely large dining room, appropriately sized for their family. Stiles sat next to his dad and Derek on the longer side of the table. They all passed around the bowls and trays full of food, and once everyone got a serving, they all sat quietly and started eating. The food was pretty good, but Stiles couldn’t really focus on eating when cousins and other family members would look at him awkwardly.

                “So, Stiles, how are things?” His grandmother asked, cutting up her Christmas ham into smaller bites.      
                “Well, um, not bad. I’ve been thinking that I might go to Berkeley for college, but I’m still thinking,” Stiles lied. He was just trying to get through the conversation without too many pestering questions. “Other than that, nothing has really been going on,” Stiles could feel Derek’s hot stare on the side of his face. Derek leaned into Stiles’ ear and whispered.

                “You have to tell them, Stiles they have to know,”

                “Are you fucking crazy? I can’t tell them, they’ll go bezerk!” Stiles hissed back, Stiles’ cousins staring at him awkwardly. Derek raised his eyebrows and stared at Stiles a little longer. “No.”

                “Well, we actually have some, um, news,” John started. Stiles tapped John on the shoulder and plastered a smile on his face.

                “I thought we were going to wait until later,” He gritted though his teeth.

                “It has to come out sometime,” His dad whispered back. “Anyway, the news is about four weeks ago, Stiles got really sick, and we ended up taking him to the hospital where we found out that he has stomach cancer,” Everyone’s face shifted, and they all stared directly at Stiles, who was trying to shield his face with Derek’s arm. He looked over at his Aunt Jillian, who was now stuttering a cry, burying her face into his uncle’s chest. Stiles took a deep breath and leaned into Derek a little more.

                “What, what are you going to do?” Grandma Stilinski wiped her eyes with her long sleeves.

                “Well, right now we are doing a round of chemotherapy, and it is in its early stage, so thank god for that, but, we really don’t know what we’re going to do,” The whole room was quiet, and no one said anything for a while. Finally, everyone slowly went back into the living room to converse and to wrap up before everyone headed back home. Everyone hugged Stiles before they left, which made Stiles a little irritable, because he HATED attention, and he didn’t even what to tell anyone about this for that reason exactly.

                “Hey,” His cousin Jeremy came up and patted on the shoulder. Stiles moved himself away from his hand. He hated Jeremy, because he was a douchebag to the family, always walking around with a hand out, always wanting something from other people, and he always took advantage of their poor ignorant grandmother. “I’m sorry,”

                “Yeah, me too,” Stiles said. He was trying to be hostile.

                “Well, I’m here for you if you need anything, and I’ll always be here for you,”

                “I don’t need your charity,” Stiles said. Everyone turned around and stared at him.

                “Excuse me?”

                “I don’t need your pity, or your charity, Jeremy, really its fine.” Everyone gawked at Stiles, including Jeremy who didn’t know what to say. Derek grabbed Stiles’ hand.

                “Well, are you ready to go?”

                “Yeah, let’s go.”

                                ~~~*~~~

                Christmas day was spent waking up late, drinking multiple cups of coffee, and eating a late breakfast. It was just John and Stiles, sitting around, watching A Christmas Story on TBS, and opening presents. Stiles had saved up his money to get his dad the nice Rolex watch his dad had been eyeing for a while, and he also made him a tin of cookies (yet tin was an understatement, it was about two feet tall and filled to the brim) and scrapbooked some love letters that he and his mom had written each other. His dad was very pleased, marking another successful Christmas. The first thing Stiles was told to open was a canister of ammunition. The next one, a nice 30-30 shotgun with a wooden stalk, which Stiles immediately put in his shoulder to see how it fit him. The next, was a sight, a very fancy sight that would magnify better than his binoculars.

                “Thank you dad,” Stiles gushed, hugging him. “Can I try it out?” John shrugged his shoulders as Stiles went outside, a round of shells in his hand as he tightened the bolts on the new sight and sighted it in, so it would have an accurate shot. Once he did that, he chambered the round and set the safety on, setting the gun on the ground and grabbing his foam target his dad had gotten him when they were practicing shooting handguns. He set it multiple yards away and aimed in on the bull’s-eye with his gun and pulled the trigger, hitting it dead on.

                “Wow, you’re good for getting back in the saddle,” His dad said, patting his shoulder. “You would be a good marksman you realize,”

                “Yeah, but I would rather do something else, like go into music, or graphic design, or mythology,”

                “Sometimes I wonder if you really are my child,” John shook his head.

                “Well, I’m definitely mom’s child,” Stiles regretted saying that once it came out of his mouth. “I, um-.”

                “It’s okay, I know what you mean,” Stiles was just glad that enough time had passed for his dad to not totally break down. “But seriously son, a gift like that doesn’t just come around,” Stiles shrugged his shoulders and shot the rest of the round into the target before retiring the gun for the day. The barrel was warm under his hand. He brought the gun inside and slipped it in the last slot in his dad’s gun cabinet, which his dad had been saving just for this.

                “Do you want me to start dinner?” His dad asked, going into the fridge for a beer.

                “Sure, what did you get?”

                “I just picked up some mashed potatoes, macaroni and cheese, and some chicken to heat up,” Stiles was already turning on his Xbox and started to play Assassin’s Creed while his dad sat and watched. “What is the point of this, by the way?”

                “Well, you’re supposed to stop the bad guys by shooting down their ships with cannons, and also you need money, so you steal from people, and you also have these awesome swords to stab though people,”

                “Okay, well, this makes no sense, but I’m going to go with it,” His dad went back in the kitchen when the microwave beeped and put in the other dish. Stiles decided to switch to Call of Duty Ghosts so he could play online. He flailed his keys as fast as he could to get his kill streaks high enough to spawn a dog to kill people while he killed other people. His dad called for dinner and Stiles ended the game and fixed himself a plate and they turned on a semi-decent movie on Netflix as they ate.

                “So, dad, I have a proposition,” Stiles started, mouth full of mashed potatoes. “Well, I wanted to start making a bucket list, if that’s okay with you. And I kind of wanted to start on it, just in case, well, you know, I kick the bucket? I don’t want to think of it anymore than you do, but, I mean, we have to be a little real,”

                “I understand, and that’s completely fine, it’s just…” His dad paused, taking a long swig from his beer bottle and sighing. “I never thought I would be helping my son make his bucket list,”

                “I know, but I do have a few things I want to do,” Stiles reached into his pocket and pulled out a list of things scribbled in pen on a piece of white paper.

1)      Race dirt bikes down at the track

2)      Write another song

3)      Play at least one more game of lacrosse with my team

4)      Go to the beach

5)      Go to Disney Land

6)      Take a trip to Oregon

7)      Go to prom

8)      Submit an art portfolio

9)      Have a picnic (with a certain Sourwolf)

10)   Get a tattoo

11)   Go to the city with my friends

12)   Go to a party

13)   Write notes on a balloon and release it into the air

14)   Tour Berkeley

15)   Go floating and camping

16)   Venture off in the woods

17)   Write a message in a bottle

18)   Go back to the pier

19)   Spend a weekend in San Francisco

20)   Go back to the Stilinski farm

21)   Make a CD of memorable songs

22)   Make a time capsule

Stiles was pleased with his list and handed it to his dad. He looked through it and handed it back.

                “I like it. When do you want to start?”

                “How about at the first of the year?” A smile streaked across Stiles’ face and he took another bite of his mashed potatoes and a bit of macaroni. The two finished their dinner in silence and lounged on the couch, Stiles launching his feet onto the coffee table. There wasn’t much on TV for Christmas, so they ended up rummaging through their large DVD collection and, after much convincing, watched 21 Jump Street, which they had already seen about a thousand times and Stiles could practically quote the whole thing. They popped some more popcorn and watched movies the rest of the night.

                “Dad, will you promise me something?”

                “Sure, what is it?”

                “If something happens, will you still talk to Derek?”

                “What do you mean?”

                “Well, don’t push him out of the picture, please dad, okay?”

                “Okay, I promise,”

                                ~~~*~~~               

                                Stiles arrived at Derek’s house New Year’s Eve, his hair slicked back. He’s wearing the shirt that Derek had gotten him from Christmas (Derek damn it, I told you not to get me anything), which was a long sleeved scoop-neck shirt with thumb holes, which Derek told Stiles that he would look cute in (Derek had become such a softy since dating Stiles). Stiles was holding a bouquet of flowers, just some blue carnations that he found at the florist shop downtown. He knocked on the door and patiently waited for Derek to open the door of his den. He watched as the door slid out and he saw Derek, dressed up a little bit. Stiles walked in and sat the vase on the table, and then grabbed Derek behind his neck and locked lips with him, his mouth warm and sweet. Derek sucked on Stiles’ bottom lip, giving him a little bit of stubble burn, but he didn’t mind. They looked up at each other, Derek’s eyes glowing blue and going back.

                “Derek, your eyes,” Stiles said, tracing circles around Derek’s cheek with his thumb. Derek grabbed Stiles and pushed him against the wall. He pulled up Stiles’ shirt and sank his teeth into Stiles’ soft skin, and Stiles loved it. Derek worked his teeth up Stiles’ abdomen before reaching his neck, where he bit down a little harder, making Stiles gasp a bit. Derek looked up at Stiles. “Don’t stop,” Derek licked his lips and picked up Stiles toddler-style, Stiles wrapping his legs around Derek’s waist as Derek walked them to his room. He set Stiles on the bed, where he sat up, his hands behind him. Derek grabbed Stiles’ shoulders and plopped down on his lap, starring him in the face. He then pulled out his phone and tapped on it for a while, the speaker next to him on the nightstand kicked on and [Florence + the Machine’s The Dog Days Are Over](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iWOyfLBYtuU) played quietly through the speaker. Derek pulled his shirt off and Stiles brushed his fingers lightly upwards, grabbing his chin and just staring at his calm face.

                “Stiles,”

                “Shh,” Stiles put his finger to Derek’s soft lips and slid the back of his hand down Derek’s face. Derek pulled Stiles’ shirt over his head and tossed it in a heap by the bed. He pushed Stiles flat on the bed and reached for his pants, slowly unbuttoning them before slipping Stiles’ legs free of them.

                “The horses are coming, so you better run,” the song sang as both Stiles and Derek stripped to nothing and slipped between Derek’s sheets, where the space between them was non-existent. The comforter slipped off the bed, and the only thing that separated them from the hot air of the room was the thick flannel sheet tucked under the mattress which fluttered as they moved. It was just them, the bed, the music, and their affection that filled the room.

                “God,” Derek breathed. Stiles grabbed a handful of Derek’s hair and pulled himself closer.

                “I…hope you…closed the…blinds…” Stiles said between wet kisses. After he said that, he heard a crack and the whole bed shifted closer to the floor. “What the hell was that?” He said, bracing himself with Derek’s strapping shoulders.

                “We’ll worry about it later, but right now, we have more important things to worry about,” Derek rocked back on his knees and Stiles leap onto his lap, and they tumbled backwards onto the mattress. It was some of the best sex that Stiles had ever had, and the night was still to come.

                “Wait,” He said as Derek pulled himself off of Stiles for a second. Stiles reached behind him where Derek had brought the vase in from the living room and grabbed a handful of carnations. He put his hand at the bottom of the stem and quickly slid his hand up, the petals shooting into the air and slowly fluttering onto the suspected broken bed. “Now we may continue,” Derek laughed and pulled Stiles back by his arm, Stiles’ body now resting across Derek’s bare lap. He grabbed Stiles by the shoulders and rolled over him. Derek licked the bites on Stiles’ chest, Stiles squirming a little bit. He raked his fingers through Derek’s hair, down his neck, and finally grabbing his back. He sunk his nails into Derek’s back and they both thrust forward onto each other, rolling around in the carnation petals, making a mess of themselves. Stiles picked a lone petal from Derek’s eyebrow and tossed it away from them.

                Stiles let Derek shower first, giving him time to lay in the bed and rest. Derek always had more stamina than him, and could literally go all night if he wanted. The playlist was still on, playing a song that Stiles wasn’t familiar with, but still enjoyed. He closed his eyes and listened to the combination of water hitting the tiles in the shower and the song playing through the speaker. The water stopped and Derek walked out, a white towel around his face as he shook his hair free of water.

                “All yours,” Stiles got up and walked into the bathroom, the room filled with warm steam. Stiles turned the water all the way up, just letting the warmth scold his back. He took a handful of body wash and rubbed himself down, plucking the petals off of his skin and picking them from his hair. When Stiles felt cleaner, he grabbed a towel in the closet of the bathroom and walked out, his shoulders immediately tensing at the coldness of the room. Derek threw him a shirt and a pair of sweatpants, which Stiles slipped on. He pulled the collar of the shirt up and smelled it. Derek. He looked down at the shirt to see that it read Harvard.

                “Harvard?” Stiles asked, helping strip the sheets off of the definitely broken bed, which was now about two feet shorter, the legs of the bed laying across the room.

                “I went there for a while on scholarship, and a couple of years before I was supposed to graduate, the fire happened, and I kind of had to drop out due to that,” Stiles wadded his sheet up and threw it in the corner where Derek threw the fitted sheet.

                “Well, Happy new year,” Stiles walked into the kitchen and grabbed a mug, pouring himself a cup of coffee. It was about three am, and Stiles was already pretty tired, and the bed was pretty much trashed, so he settled himself on the couch. He drank his coffee as Derek threw a load in the washer and came back out, where Stiles was already half asleep. Derek snuggled close to him, throwing his arm over him, and Stiles could already feel his warmth.

                                ~~~*~~~

               

                Stiles felt Derek get up from next to him and heard his loud coffee maker start up.

                “Mhrrp, Derek?” Stiles groaned, his bedhead pretty rustled. He grabbed the blanket he was wrapped in earlier in the night and pulled it up over him.

                “What?”

                “Your couch makes my back hurt. You need to get a new bed,” Stiles sat up, still having the blanket tucked over his shoulders and over his now crossed legs. He stuck a cold, pale arm out to grab the TV remote and quickly threw on some cartoons that were on. He might be 18, but he was definitely not going to miss out on cartoons.

                “Well, that means you’re just going to have to go with me to pick out a new one,” Derek filled two mugs and poured some milk in Stiles’ mug and handed it to him.

                “That’s not too bad, as long as I can wear this,” Stiles pointed to the sweatpants and the long sleeved Harvard t-shirt. Stiles pulled the sleeves over his hands as he held the mug and slowly sipped through it, attempting not to burn his tongue. “At the same time, what furniture store is open on a Wednesday?”

                “Whichever one we end up going to,” Derek said, taking a large drink from his mug. He bottomed the rest of it and set the mug on the coffee table. He yawned and went into his room, coming back with a pair of jeans and his leather jacket. Stiles pulled the blanket off of him and grabbed the Nike high tops he wore last night from under the couch and slipping them on barefoot. He didn’t bother to tie them, just to shove the laces into the front of the shoe and to pull the tongue up a little higher than usual.

                They ended up going to the furniture store downtown, and Stiles insisted that they ask someone for help.

                “No, we ca do it on our own,”

                “No Derek, we need to ask someone!”

                “It’s not like they’re going to know anything anyway!”

                “Derek, pull your alpha pride out of your ask and ask someone!”

                “Fine.” Stiles dragged him up to one of the clerks. “Yes, um, hi, we’re looking for a bedframe for a king-sized mattress, preferably oak,” Derek stuttered, Stiles silently laughing.

                “We just got some in, follow me,” The clerk walked them over to a selection of dark bedframes with mattresses on top of them. Stiles immediately had the impulse to jump on the first one he saw and lay on it.

                “This one is comfy, I like it Derek,” Stiles bounced a bit. “It does feel a little flimsy, do you have one that’s a little sturdier, because we broke the other one,” Derek grabbed Stiles by the arm and dragged him off of the bed.

                “Stiles, shut up!” The clerk gave them a weird look before responding.

                “There’s a box spring one over there,” She pointed to one that looked similar to Derek’s old one, except this had a sleigh looking front, and the headboard had more designs carved into it.

                “What do you think Derek?” He looked at it for a while, examining it.

                “Sure. Do you mind getting us this one?” The clerk nodded and called it in for someone to get and guided them over to the desk to check out. Derek handed her his credit card and she swiped it, giving it back.

                “It should be delivered in a couple of days, what address do you want it to be sent to?” Derek gave the address of the industrial building and she wrote it down on a pink slip.

                “See, that was nearly painless,” Stiles said, nudging Derek.

                “I hate being social, and I hate going shopping, and that was horrible,” Derek turned on his heel and walked out of the store, Stiles following close behind.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles is nearing the end of round one of chemo and he and Derek's relationship grows a bit stronger

Stiles had to get up earlier than he usually did when on winter break, because he had yet another chemo appointment. They said he only had a couple more left in this round before they would reexamine the situation. Other than the hair loss (which, surprisingly still stayed at the buzz cut) and his occasional lethargy, he was feeling pretty good. The chemo hadn’t made him sick, he had more energy than he did at the start of it, and could actually focus more on reading his shit ton of books, which, the other two boxes came a couple of days after Christmas. He had finally finished pretty much the entire first box of books, and had notes and binders on each of them, which he typed into his computer frantically and printed off for pack reference (because, even though usually good drawers have pretty good handwriting, Stiles was the exception with his horrible chicken scratch that was rarely legible), and now had about 15 binders. He had actually finished printing off the papers to the last binder right before his chemo appointment. He did what he usually did, which included grabbing his sketchbook and colored pencils, and his phone, with charger and headphones. He had gotten really into watching American Horror Story on Netflix, and might watch a couple of episodes while he was there.

                He got to the clinic, waited a couple of minutes until they called him back, and he sat in the usual brown chair where they poked his skin with the IV needle, and started dripping the amber liquid into his body. He ended up listening to Pandora on his phone, which, by the way, he had the perfect station set up with all of his favorite songs. The first song that came on was [Sweater Weather](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GCdwKhTtNNw), which made him in a mood to go to the beach, and honestly, it wasn’t a bad time to go, because the weather was usually decently warm and he loved the beach. He had been begging Derek to take him over there last summer, but they were both too busy, with Stiles rapidly trying to fill out college applications and Derek getting a job at a publication company, where he wrote short stories and they put in a big book, but Derek was ashamed to actually show them to him, so he hid them away, and also hid the fake name that he was listed under (no, you cannot see the stories, they are horrible) and always locked his stories on his laptop so Stiles couldn’t take a peek.

                After a while, Stiles got a text from Derek.

                **Bed was delivered today. We’re good to go** **J** -Stiles texted him back.

                **Awesome! I’ll be over later. I’m stuck at the clinic, bored out of my mind**

**Let me come over there!**

**NO.**

**Too late. Coming over anyway**

Stiles was kind of glad that Derek was coming, because he was bored. It was a nice day, and he wanted to be outside, possibly practicing lacrosse, or shooting hoops out front, or something that wasn’t this. He stared out the window until he heard footsteps coming into the nearly empty room, Derek standing a little awkwardly at the doorway before walking over to Stiles. He stood there for a couple minutes, looking around and tucking his thumbs in the front pocket of his dark jeans.

                “Hey,” Stiles said, turning back over him.

                “Hi. So, this is it, huh?” Derek grabbed a chair and sat next to Stiles. Stiles scooted closer to Derek and leaned into his chest.

                “I was so bored here,” Stiles said, now sitting sideways in his chair, legs draped over the other armrest. “But now I have you to entertain me,” Stiles leaned forward into his backpack’o’magic and pulled out The Fault in Our Stars by John Green. “Read to me,” Derek opened the book up and read the inside of the book jacket.

                “Are you fucking serious Stiles? You’re reading this?”

                “Please?” Derek sighed and grabbed the pair of glasses he kept in the front pocket of his jeans that he used. He must’ve not wore his contacts today. He slid the glasses up the bridge of his nose and opened the book and started reading. Stiles just laid across his lap and listened to him talk, listened to his silk voice pass through the pages of the book. Derek was to the part of the book where Hazel went back to Augustus’ house to watch V for Vendetta. He turned another page and read the rest of the chapter when the nurse came in to take out the IV. Stiles rubbed his hand and left the clinic, clinging close to Derek. “Thanks for coming, sorry it was so boring,”

                “No problem. How many of those do you have left?”

                “I don’t know, a couple?” Stiles got into his Jeep, the window down how he left it. “You wanna come over? It’s my last day of break before the weekend, and before I have to go back to school,” A smile spread across Derek’s face and he got in his car and followed Stiles home. Stiles immediately went up to his room, where Derek followed. Stiles was a little bit tired, mostly because he wasn’t back into his sleeping schedule of not waking up at noon and not getting out of his room, let alone his bed, until about 2:30. He crawled under a blanket he had on his bed, and wadded in it was his mom’s old sweatshirt. He quickly threw it on over his shirt and pulled the sleeves over his hands and crossed his arms. He smelled the collar of it and felt his mother’s presence.

                “Was that your mom’s?” Stiles nodded pulling the blanket higher up his torso and rolled over. He was already about to drift into a nap when Derek crawled into the bed with him. He slung his arm over Stiles’ torso and Stiles leaned back into his chest.

                “I love you,”

                “I love you more,”

                “I love you most,” Stiles then fell asleep in the warm embrace of Derek next to him.

                                ~~~*~~~

                Stiles cracked open his eyes, the light beaming in from the window temporarily blinding him. He saw Derek sitting at Stiles’ desk, feet crossed in the desk chair. He was looking at a folded piece of paper that Stiles immediately recognized as his bucket list.

                “What are you doing with that?”

                “I just found it. I kind of wanted to help you out with it,” Derek walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. “I want to start today, c’mon,” He grabbed Stiles by the arm and Stiles started grabbing clothes out of his drawers and closet and changing. He ended up going to the bathroom and taking his cocktail of drugs that he was on, washing them down with the glass of water he kept in there for that purpose. He brushed his teeth and listened as Derek was typing on his phones, the loud clicks echoing through the door. He rinsed his face out and looked at himself in the mirror. He looked tired. He had dark circles under his eyes and his face just kind of drooped a little more than usual. He sighed and went back into his room and slumped down on his bed.

                “What are we doing first?” Stiles asked, rustling on the floor to find his converse high tops. He pulled the laces really tight around his ankles and looped the too long laces around his ankle once before tying them.

                “Whatever you want to do,”

                “How about number 1, 10, and 16,”

                “Okay, um,” Derek grabbed the paper from Stiles’ hands and looked at the numbers. Okay, well, we can go down to the track today, and we can go out in the woods, are you sure about the tattoo thing? I mean, are you sure you want to do it today?” Derek asked, folding the piece of paper back up and slipping it in the small pocket of his V-neck shirt.

                “I mean, I don’t know, I should probably wait, I don’t even have a design picked out or anything,” Stiles shrugged.

                “Okay,”

                It was about twenty minutes later when Derek pulled up to Finger Lakes, the local racing track where people who raced four wheelers, dirt bikes, or really anything, practiced. The thing about Finger Lakes is it had these 5 lakes that were long and skinny, and really shallow, only about 5 feet deep, and these huge rocky bluffs around the lakes, that some stupid drunk teenager would jump off of and crack their skull open during spring break and another death would be reported on the news.

                They had taken Stiles’ jeep over there, because it was the only vehicle that could hook up the trailer where his cousin’s old dirt bike that he and his dad had retrieved at the Stilinski farm months before (Mostly from Stiles’ constant begging to go back to the track). He snapped the pin on the hitch to lower the trailer closer to the ground and popped open the doors and slowly rolled the bike out. It was bright blue and had a black seamless seat that looked practically brand new. Stiles kind of wondered why his cousin had just given it away to him, but he said something about how he wanted an automatic bike because it was hard for him to shift. Whatever. Manuals were more fun anyway. Stiles and Derek had already paid to get in, Derek holding the helmet that Stiles had also retrieved from the Stilinski farm, and they just walked the bike over to the dirt track, the wind blowing some of the dust that was ripped up from someone else going. He set the bike at the beginning of the track, slung his leg over it, and turned the key. He flipped out the starting pedal and stomped on it, the bike roaring to life. He revved up the engine, leaned to the right and flipped the kickstand up. He shifted down on the clutch and flicked his wrist backwards, lifting his feet off of the ground and onto the foot petals and soaring down the track. He drifted through one of the curves, pulling up a lot of dust. He shifted the clutch again and went back around the track a little faster this time, flying over the hills and sharply turning the curves and zipping to the rest of the track. Then, he shifted the clutch one more time, driving up to the biggest hill on the track, pulling the handlebars back, and soaring 7 feet in the air. The bike bounced as it landed as he drifted towards Derek who was standing at the beginning of the track.

                “Holy shit,” Derek said, Stiles unfastening the snap on the chin of the helmet and lifting it over his head. “Where did that come from?”

                “It came from screwing around at my grandparents’ house. We used to race their four wheelers, lawn mowers, tractors, old trucks, everything,” Derek shook his head.

                “You are too much,” Stiles rolled the bike back to the trailer and parked it towards the back, pulling the trailer back up and shutting the doors. He threw the helmet into the back of the jeep and drove back to his house. Once they got home, Stiles unhitched the trailer and slid it into the garage, Derek holding up the back of the trailer so it didn’t drag.

                “Follow me,” Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand and pulled him up to his room where he logged onto his computer and pulled up a picture. Derek recognized it by the [Celtic symbol of strength](http://www.google.com/imgres?imgurl=&imgrefurl=http%3A%2F%2Fchenshifashion.com%2Fceltic-symbols-and-meanings-chart%2F&h=0&w=0&tbnid=-6rahAJcdp9U7M&zoom=1&tbnh=213&tbnw=236&docid=-ofN7PYJ2vIakM&tbm=isch&ei=i0lVU5SpNafeyAGBmYGQCQ&ved=0CA4QsCUoBA). “This is the design I want, I mean, I think. I was thinking about it, but I don’t wanna do it today,” Derek nodded as Stiles printed the picture off. “It’s a pretty simple design,” He took the paper off of the printer and pinned it to the corkboard behind the desk and released a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

                “I like it,” Derek said, sitting on Derek’s lap. Stiles hadn’t realized how heavy Derek was, but he didn’t mind.

                “Thanks. Do you wanna go for a walk?” Stiles wrapped his hands around Derek’s torso, feeling his hips on his arm.

                “That would be lovely,” Derek got up and Stiles shook his legs, trying to get feeling back to them. He re-tied the laces of his shoes and slid down the down the bannister of the stairs, ungracefully falling square on his ass. Derek laughed and pulled him up to his feet. He headed towards the door, tapping the toes of his casual looking black-out converse. Stiles jumped on Derek’s back, wrapping his legs around Derek’s hips as Derek opened the door and grabbed Stiles’ legs so he wouldn’t fall backwards. He shut the house door and they marched outside towards the preserve and Derek started running, Stiles bouncing with every step Derek took.

                “Where are we going?”

                “You’ll see,” Derek ran for several minutes and Stiles clung onto him tighter than ever, closing his eyes and feeling the occasional branch scratch his bare arms or face. The air was crisp when Stiles took a breath and everything was perfect. Eventually, Derek slowed down and let Stiles off of his back. He walked over to a bluff that was covered in dead leaves and they looked down to see the river below, a small roar coming from it. Derek sat on the ground and scooted close to the drop, pulling his legs over the edge of the rock and dangling his feet. Stiles sat next to him, legs crossed. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and pulled up a special iTunes playlist he had made for an occasion like this. He shuffled the songs, and the first song to come on was [Things We Lost to the Fire](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MGR4U7W1dZU). He really liked the song, but he didn’t know how Derek would react, but he seemed to like the song. He sat back and looked beyond the bluff at the new suburban neighborhood that was built a couple of years ago. Everything was perfect. The moment, the weather, the music, everything. Derek pecked Stiles on the cheek and grabbed his chin with one hand and looked him up and down. Stiles closed his eyes, feeling Derek’s warm fingertips swirl around his face. He looked up at Derek’s gorgeous green eyes that flashed from emerald green to a steel blue. Stiles pulled a black speck of dirt from Derek’s cheek and laid back into the grass, dead leaves getting all over his shirt. Derek laughed as Stiles found a tree and started climbing it. He got pretty far and hung there, upside down, his knees rocking back and forth against the branch to ensure he wouldn’t fall. Derek put his arms out and Stiles dropped stomach first and Derek sat him back on the ground. “You’re like a child,”

                “Is that a bad thing?”

                “I never said that was a bad thing, we all need to be a little childish,” The song on the playlist switched to [Alone Together](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LFhEBmNwX_E) and they started to walk back to Stiles’ neighborhood.

                “So, is this how you felt about graduating high school?”

                “How is that?”  
                “I don’t know, it all hit me that I was expected to actually get a job, start a family, and have my own life in just a couple of months, and, where did the time go?”

                “Yeah, I felt like that, but I also didn’t think about having a family and everything at that point,” Derek slipped his thumbs into his front pockets as they walked circles around the preserve, taking the long route (because, let’s be honest, they were all scenic routes).

                “Do you still have that list?” Stiles asked. Derek pulled it out of his shirt pocket and pulled a pen that he had left in his pocket and added one more thing to the end of the list.           

                “What did you add?” Stiles hid the list from Derek until he pried it from his fingers and looked at it.

**1)** **Marry Derek Hale**

Derek was speechless for a while.

“I do love you Stiles,” He said, grabbing his hand and intertwining his fingers in the spots that Stiles’ fingers didn’t occupy.

“I want to spend the rest of my life with you,” Stiles said, squeezing Derek’s hand. “Even if it’s short lived, and I only last another couple of months, I want you to be mine,”

“Well, you practically already are mine, I’ve marked you,”

“I know, but picture it, identical silver wedding bands around our ring fingers, because fuck the legend that says silver weakens werewolves,”

“The only thing that weakens werewolves is Stiles Stilinski,”

“That’s the point!” Stiles said. “Oh Derek, we could have the cutest children together. We could have Cora be the carrier of the baby so it gets both of our genes, god Derek, it could be perfect. The rest of my life would be perfect with you,” Derek smiled and looked up. “They would have my sarcasm and wit, your wolfiness, strength, and kind heart, and fuck Derek, they will be beautiful. They’ll be the most gorgeous kids we could ever dream of!” Derek couldn’t argue. Stiles knew he was right, and to be honest Derek also wanted to have kids with Stiles. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with Stiles, and even though the kid was thought as one of the most imperfect kids ever, in Derek’s mind, he was the right amount of perfect, because perfect was overrated anyway, and perfect people are boring, and Derek had imperfections too, more than Stiles, but for once, they didn’t matter. The song [Flaws](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1E36WU9Wzf4) came onto Stiles’ phone.

**You have always worn your flaws upon your sleeve**

**And I have always buried them deep beneath the ground**

**Dig them up; let’s finish what we’ve started**

**Dig them up, so nothing’s left untouched.**

“So, do you want to have the future discussion?” Derek asked as they found the trail.

“We probably should. I know I want to spend the rest of my life with you, even if the rest of my life is only a couple of months,” Stiles turned into a circle on his toes, kicking up a couple of leaves. He grabbed one of the pine branches and tugged all of the pines off of it, rubbing them in his hands and smelling his hands. He had always liked the smell of fresh pine. “Do you feel the same way?” Stiles let Derek chew on the question.

“I do. I’ve known since day one of this relationship that I wanted you to be mine, and only mine. I know, I’m a little protective,” Stiles laughed. He stomped in a puddle and the water splashed up. “And I want to have kids with you, and make a family with you, and I want to do it all, okay? Even though you’re already 18, I’ll even wait for you to graduate high school, that’s how much I love you,” Stiles stopped and looked at Derek.

“Really?”

“I wouldn’t lie to you Stiles, that wouldn’t help any of us,” They got back into the neighborhood and went back into the house. They opened the door to see John at the kitchen table, cleaning his guns.

                “Dad,” Stiles said, John pulling the cloth from inside the barrel.

                “Oh, sorry Stiles,” John said, slightly sarcastically. Stiles saw Derek tense up a little bit.

                “Dad,” Stiles repeated, sternly. John groaned and grabbed the guns off of the kitchen table, dragging them into the other room. “Thank you,” John stayed in the other room.

                “Well, I have to head off, I don’t want to, but you have school tomorrow, and I have a book that’s not going to finish itself, and is due in a couple of days,” Stiles nodded.

                “How far are you on it by the way?”

                “Just a few more chapters and I’ll be good,” He smiled tiredly. It hadn’t occurred to Stiles that Derek had been spending all his time lately on Stiles, and not on his job. He kind of felt bad, but at the same time, he trusted Derek enough to leave when he wanted.

                “Okay, see you later,”

                “Okay, bye!” Derek blew a kiss to him and he pretended to catch it with his hand and hold the invisible kiss next to his heart. Derek left and Stiles walked back upstairs and started the essay that he forgot was due the next day. Whoops. He put in his headphones, shuffled his playlist, and started on his essay, which was about the philosophical ideas of Karl Marx, the father of Communism. He read the articles he needed to complete the essay, but the English teacher was a bitch and wanted every single sentence to be college worthy. I guess that was fair, because it was a prep for college English course, but she more expected it to happen. Without guidance. That’s what pissed him off the most. He got a couple of paragraphs done, and then got stumped. He couldn’t think about anything, especially Karl Marx’s idea of communism. His teacher hit this topic really hard, and he didn’t really understand why, because it’s not like the United States was under an authoritative government, nor is a communist economy, but whatever, to each its own.            

                Stiles’ thoughts fluttered away and he focused on the songs that were playing. He finished up the essay to the best of his ability and then surfed the web. Honestly, he had really gotten into Bastille’s album Bad Blood. The whole album was motivating. He really liked the song [Icarus](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FehA9OwZflw), considering it was written about the Greek myth about a father and son (Icarus) who got trapped in a labyrinth and couldn’t find their way out, so they glued feathers to Icarus and he was ordered to fly out of the maze to the land and get help, but once he started flapping his artificial wings, he liked flying too much and the glue melted and he fell into the ocean where he drowned.

                **Your hands protect the flames**

**From the wild winds around you**

**Icarus is flying too close to the sun**

**And Icarus’ life, it has only just begun**

**And this is how it feels to take a fall**

**Icarus is flying towards an early grave**

                                ~~~*~~~

                The sound of his alarm was irritating. Stiles pounded it and sat up, scratching his head. He grumbled and shuffled down the stairs, and went straight to the coffee maker. He slipped in a coffee cup in the coffee maker and pulled the lever down, listening to the coffee maker groan and then dispense black magic into the mug he put under it. He drank from the scolding mug and walked back upstairs. He sipped at the mug as he printed his essay off. He threw on a pair of skinny jeans while the printer shot pages out of it. It was about a ten page essay, so it was going to take a while to print. Stiles threw on a printed tee that said [Tesla > Edison](http://shop.theoatmeal.com/products/tesla-edison-shirt). He picked the report up off of the printer and quickly stapled it, slipping it into his homework “binder” which was pretty much a folder with plastic binder rings that looped through the front cover. He quickly sprayed a little bit of cologne on his wrists and on the inside collar of his shirt and downed the rest of his coffee. He slung his backpack over his shoulder, set the coffee mug in the sink and went out to his jeep. He drove over to Scott’s house and waited outside his house, listening to the slow rumble of Roscoe. Scott still hadn’t come out of the house. Stiles was five minutes earlier than usual, so it wasn’t a surprise that Scott wasn’t quite ready. Stiles rolled down the windows, and turned up the radio a little bit. Viva la Vida came on. He chuckled and shook his head. Scott came running outside, still attempting to throw his shoe on his foot and his sweatshirt over his arms, but not over his head. He opened the door, threw his backpack in front of him and slipped his shoe on. His sweatshirt was still hanging off of his arms. Stiles pulled out.

                “Wouldn’t that be comfier with it _over_ your head?” Stiles pointed out, setting one of his hands on his lap and turning the steering wheel with the palm of his left hand.

                “Shut up,” Scott slipped the sweatshirt over his head and buckled his seatbelt, pulling the sun visor down to brush his hair back in the mirror. Stiles pulled into his spot and put it in park. They were at school really early. “Do you wanna just wait in the car?”

                “Yeah,” Stiles stretched his back out in the seat and grabbed his phone. “I’m not really feeling today, ya know?”  
                “Yeah, me neither. God. I hate school,”

                “We only have a couple months left,”

                “A couple months too long,”

                “You’re the one who made me stay here and not go off to college, dick, don’t you dare complain about anything. My whole class schedule is a joke this year,” Stiles said, shoving Scott to the other side of the Jeep.

                “Hey, you know you wanted to spend every little minute with me. By the way, what college are you thinking about going to?” Stiles took a second to think. He had gotten a lot of acceptance and scholarship letters lately.

                “Well, I’m thinking of heading to Berkley, I have a full ride…”

                “I was thinking about that too, because my dad said he was going to pay for wherever I wanted to go to,” Scott said, brushing his bangs over to the side of his face. Stiles remembered when he used to constantly brush his bangs up where he spiked them, considering it was only a couple of months. He kind of missed his hair, but if everything went the right way, his hair would grow back.

                Stiles went through the rest of the day not really paying attention to any lectures, just skidding by. During AP Music Theory, he decided to text Derek.

                **How’s the book going?**

**Still don’t know how the hell I’m supposed to end this…**

**Maybe if you let me read it, I could give you some ideas, JS**

**Haha, you’re funny. Not a chance**

**Pweeze?**

**No**

**Yes**

**NO.**

**YESS.**

**Maybe**

**Maybe?**

**Do you want me to go back to no?**

**No**

**I will only take your offer if I can’t finish this by tomorrow. Fair?  
                I’ll make sure you don’t finish it ;)**

**I feel like you’re taking advantage of me**

**I feel like you think too much**

**I feel like starting sentences with “I feel like” is getting old**

**I feel like that they are just getting started**

**I feel like we should stop**

**I feel like we should continue, unless you’re too mainstream**

**Mainstream?**

**Yes, Derek, mainstream. As a hipster in disguise I would think you would know the definition of mainstream, considering you always look and dress it, 4 eyes**

**That was ONCE.**

**Your glasses are sexy**

**Nah. Stahp.**

**No, you “stahp”. That word is retarted anyway.**

**Retarted?**

**A retarded pop tart? Duh Derek! God, you’re the one who almost graduated from Harvard, you should know this**

**Sorry, I don’t speak teenager**

**You’re 24**

**People were dying at my age**

**Exaggerate much?**

**No! And shouldn’t you be learning how to write music?  
                I already know how to write music…**

**Then why are you taking AP Music Theory?**

**I needed filler classes because a certain douchebag (cough Scott. Damn bronchitis) convinced me to stay my senior year. I should be at Berkeley right now drinking my ass off on tequila and sitting at the commons with sweatpants taking a nap in the lobby.**

**Whatever. Get back to school kid**

**I’m not a kid, I’m a legal adult**

**I don’t see you paying your Xbox live account**

**Touché. Well now you’re making me learn shit, so TTYL**

Stiles read back through the text messages, laughing at it. He then tuned into the lesson and watched the teacher write notes on the lined board (yes, the board was lined for writing music notes, pretty cool, eh?), writing a couple of notes.

                “What type of scale is this?” The teacher asked after adding accidentals.

                “Mixolydian?” Stiles asked.

                “Yes, and what is the original type of scale?

                “Um, E♭ major, because the D turned to a D♭,” Stiles said. The teacher seemed pleased with Stiles’ answer. The bell then rang and the teacher wiped the board off with his sleeve.

            “Now read through the different types of scales and be prepared to be tested on them Wednesday,” everyone packed their stuff up and left. This was Stiles’ last class so he took his time, knowing that the teacher didn’t have another class after this, considering most of the time he left before the students to go home or run errands or something.

            “I forgot to tell you I have a doctor’s appointment Wednesday, and I won’t be able to take the test, when do you want me to make it up?” Stiles one-strapped his backpack, tapping his fingers on the strap.

            “You have study hall, right?” Stiles nodded. “How about then, what day and hour do you have it?”

            “2B,” Stiles said, not missing a beat. B days were the days where Stiles never had to try that much. The teacher wrote a note on a post it and stuck it to a stack of papers. Stiles left and headed home, knowing that Scott had to work after school. He went home and sat down on the couch. He was in the mood for a beer. His dad never really let him drink that much, but it’s not like his dad would notice if one Mike’s Hard was gone from the fridge, right? Stiles grabbed it out of the fridge and took a long swig, wrapping his skinny fingers around the neck of the bottle. He blew on the rim of it, the bottle bellowing a low noise. He laughed and took another long swig, turning on a random Netflix movie and crossing his legs on the couch. He started to feel a buzz coming on, and he licked his lips. He made some popcorn and lazily lounged on the couch. His dad was working late again, and he kind of wished that he would take off a little bit, but that’s what came with being Sheriff, especially in a considerably small town. And for a small town, Beacon Hills was bustling with crime. Or accidents. Or deaths. Why did people move here?  

            His buzz was starting to go in full swing. He gulped the rest of the bottle and looked at the lime green bottle cap. He shoved it deep into his jeans pocket and tossed the bottle in the recycling. He sat back down on the couch and watched the rest of the movie. He ended up getting bored with it and falling asleep on the couch.

            He was woken up by his dad, who gently shook his shoulder. John still had his Sheriff’s jacket on, his pistol still strapped to his hip. Stiles groaned and pulled his upper body to a sitting position.

            “What time is it?” He said, groggily, scratching his head. His hair was starting to get thinner.

            “About 11:30, do you want to go to bed?” Stiles nodded as John grabbed his son and carried him up the stairs, laying him in his bed. Stiles was already half asleep. He grumbled out and exhausted thank you and John turned out the light in his room before shutting the door.

                        ~~~*~~~

            It was Stiles’ last chemo appointment. Once it was done, they all clapped and gave him a framed certificate, saying he had earned his “purple heart”. Stiles smiled and tried to act excited, but he really wasn’t. In a couple of weeks, they would take another PET scan to see if he still had any cancer, and Stiles didn’t really know how he felt. Yeah, it was great that he didn’t have to go back to the cancer clinic (for the time being) and get his skin poked and his energy drained once a week. That was a plus, but he had this horrible feeling in his gut that it wasn’t all over. Of course when his dad asked if he was feeling better, Stiles answered with yes, so his dad wouldn’t have to stress out about that, because when John was stressed, or depressed, he drank, and he was already having his own health problems, he was 53, and as Stiles realized when his mom died, parents don’t last forever. He knew it wasn’t the right thing to do, but it was something that had to happen, to make the world keep turning.

            “Do you want to get ice cream?” His dad asked as they pulled away from the clinic.

            “Um, I guess,” Stiles said, leaning his head against the window.

            “Is something wrong?”  
            “No, I’m just tired,” It wasn’t really fatigue that made Stiles act the way he was. It was the horrible thoughts about if something was wrong that muddied his brain. John seemed to be okay with that answer, so they stopped at the local frozen custard stand, which was outside. It was a relatively nice day to eat ice cream outside. They got out of the car and Stiles stared at the ten foot board with all of the flavors and mix-ins that you could possibly get. He decided on chocolate chip cookie dough, John choosing cherry (really, cherry? Cherries are gross).  “So, I’m thinking of applying at the music store to teach piano and guitar,” Stiles said, digging in his cup for the cookie dough bites.

            “That sounds like a good idea. It’ll look good on a college application, or at a college interview,”

            “That’s what I thought, and you know, might as well considering I wanted to major in marine biology,”

            “You could always become a musician, you are always noodling on guitar with Scott in the basement,” Stiles nodded. It wasn’t a bad idea, but it wasn’t a solid career. It was something that happened after one goes to college and it’s usually just luck of the draw, and he couldn’t just _expect_ it to happen. It didn’t just happen like that. “Just a suggestion,” John said, scooping a big lump of pink ice cream out of his plastic cup.

            “I know,” Stiles grabbed his phone which was vibrating in his pocket. He quickly answered the call that was coming in.

            “Stiles!” Derek’s voice rang through the phone.

            “Yes?”

            “There’s been an emergency,” Derek said, flustered. Stiles hadn’t heard him this stressed out since the whole nogitsune business.

            “What’s the situation?”

            “It’s Landon,”  
            “What happened?”  
            “It’s not good.”

            “WHAT HAPPENED?”

            “Scott’s trying to get here, but he’s stuck at the animal clinic,”

            “Derek, I swear to god, what happened?”

            “Just get your ass over to the lacrosse field right now,”

            “Okay, be right there.” Stiles ended the call, John’s ears perking up. “Can you drop me off by the lacrosse field? There’s been a situation,” Stiles quickly finished his ice cream and threw the cup away as John started the car. Stiles got in and threw his seat belt on as John peeled out of the parking lot and drove like hell over to the lacrosse field. Stiles practically jumped out of the car when they got close and he went full on sprinting towards the school. It was after school and it was still open. He yanked the front door open and ran downstairs towards the locker rooms and outside, where he saw the whole lacrosse team huddled in a circle. Stiles pushed past them to see Danny and Derek sitting on the ground, holding Landon’s head up. He had blood down his face and his leg was wrapped up with gauze. Derek motioned for Stiles to come over. He leaned into Stiles’ ear and whispered.

            “It’s a compound fracture. It’s going to take a while to heal, but we need to get him over to Deaton’s. I already called Scott,” Stiles nodded. He carefully slipped his hands under the mangled boy and carried him off of the field and walked him over to Derek’s car. Landon let out occasional whimpers. They opened the back of the Camaro and carefully set him in the back seat, and then drove as fast as they could to the animal clinic.

            “What happened?”

            “He tripped and got knocked off of his feet, and yeah, could’ve happened to anyone,” Derek pulled into the parking lot and carefully grabbed Landon out of the back seat. Stiles opened the door. They sat in the waiting room while a woman with a dog carrier waited on the other side of the room and looked at them awkwardly. Scott walked out from the back and looked at them. He nodded and proceeded to take the woman with the dog carrier back. Landon put his head against Derek’s chest, and Stiles felt a little bit of jealousy, but he knew that it was just because he needed some comfort. Honestly, Stiles wondered if Landon ever got any emotional attachment when his dad married his new stepmom. Finally, the lady left without the dog carrier, and once she left, Derek grabbed Landon and carried him back. Deaton saw Landon and grabbed him out of Derek’s arms and set him on the metal table. He slowly unwrapped the gauze, the blood starting to clot. Landon closed his eyes as Deaton reset his leg. He yelped loudly and his eyelids shot open, his eyes turning a bright gold. Deaton stitched it up and wrapped it with new gauze.

            “It’s going to take a couple of days to fully heal, so take it easy,” Deaton said. Landon stood to his feet and unstably leaned back onto the metal table. Scott thanked Deaton and Stiles put Landon’s arm around his shoulder and helped him out of the clinic. They drove him home and got him settled. When they opened the door, Jen was sitting on the couch on the phone.

            “No, he’s home now, thanks Bobby,” She hung the phone up. “Where have you been?” She said as they helped Landon to one of the chairs in the room.

            “Mrs. Smith, I can assure you it’s not his fault. He sprained his ankle at lacrosse and I just called my mom and we went over to the hospital to get it checked out, don’t blame him for this,” Scott said, shoving his hands in his pockets. Stiles was starting to get a little fatigued and started leaning against Derek before finally sitting on the armrest of the chair, starting to fade.

            “Stiles honey, are you okay?” Jen asked.

            “Yeah, I’m fine, just a little tired is all,” He said yawning. Derek put his hand on Stiles’ shoulder and rubbed it. Stiles was starting to feel the effects of the chemo. It usually wore off pretty fast after he had a good night’s rest, but usually him getting tired meant he needed to take his cocktail of medication that he kept in a pill sorter like an old person. “Do you mind if I have a glass of water?” Stiles asked.

            “Sure,” Stiles followed Jen into the kitchen. She grabbed a glass from the cabinet and filled it in the sink. Stiles opened the freezer and grabbed an ice pack for Landon’s leg. Jen handed him the glass and he traded it for the ice pack.

            “Thank you,” Stiles pulled out his pill sorter and picked out a couple pills from the circular holder. He slipped the pills into his mouth and drank the water.

            “So, you weren’t at the last couple of lacrosse games, were you sick?”

            “Um, kind of. My doctor didn’t allow me to do as much this year,”

            “Did you hurt yourself last season?”

            “No, I have cancer,” She seemed taken aback by that that statement.

            “Oh, I’m so sorry,” She said sympathetically.

            “Nothing to be sorry about, it’s fine,” Stiles walked back into the room as Jen laid the ice pack over Landon’s leg and elevated it on the armrest.

            “Well, thank you for bringing him home,”

            “Anytime, it wasn’t a problem. You guys have a good night,” Scott closed the front door behind them. Scott grabbed the helmet off of the handlebars of his bike that he had ridden over there and Stiles got in the passenger seat of Derek’s Camaro.

            “Seriously, are you okay?” Derek asked, starting the car.

            “Yeah, sorry. This chemo treatment hit me kind of hard today. Really tired,”

            “Okay, I just worry about you baby, okay?” Stiles nodded. Derek started to drive towards Stiles’ house, getting on the highway. Stiles set his head on Derek’s shoulder and closed his eyes. The radio played the song All of Me faintly through the speakers of the car. Stiles felt Derek’s shoulder shift when he turned. He felt Derek stop and put the car in park. Derek got out of the front seat, sending him falling into the driver’s seat. Derek opened the passenger door, unbuckled Stiles from his seat and scooped him up in his arms. Stiles groaned tiredly.

            “Mmm, Derek?” He mumbled, burying his head in Derek’s arm.

            “Shh, you’re okay, we’re home,” Stiles drifted back into a half sleep in Derek’s arms. The Sheriff opened the door and talked quietly. He felt Derek’s grip shift on him as he felt Derek go up the stairs. Then, he was being set into his soft and warm bed. Derek yanked his jeans off and replaced them with sweatpants before pulling the comforter up and tucking Stiles in. He kissed his forehead. “I love you,” He got up from sitting on the edge of the bed.

            “Derek? Please don’t leave,” Stiles mumbled, whimpering a little bit.

            “Okay,” Derek climbed over Stiles and slipped under the covers, cuddling close to Stiles, spooning him. Derek threw his arm over Stiles’ shoulders and Stiles grabbed it, hugging it as he drifted off into sleep.

                        ~~~*~~~

            Stiles woke up to feel Derek pushed close to him the next morning. He stretched his arms and slipped out of the bed, checking the time. He had gotten up 20 minutes before his alarm. He shut it off and quietly walked over to the shower, stripping his clothes and soaking in the warm water. He washed his hair and then turned the water off. He dried his hair and pulled some Axe out of his drawer and sprayed it over his chest. He rolled on his deodorant and started brushing his teeth. He wrapped his towel around his waist, still brushing his teeth and quietly going through his drawers for a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He settled on a Panic! At the Disco shirt and hummed softly as he threw on his clothes. He put on a pair of his favorite Adidas high tops, grabbed his phone, and headed downstairs where he brewed a new pot of coffee and cooked himself up some eggs. While waiting for the coffee to brew, he made himself a glass of chocolate milk. He scooped the scrambled eggs onto his plate, finished the rest of his chocolate milk, and poured himself a pot of coffee. His dad had already left, and he figured that he wasn’t going to wake Derek up, it was better to let him sleep in a little bit. As usual, Stiles went over to Scott’s house, but knowing he was a lot earlier than normal, he went inside.

            “Hi Stiles,” Melissa greeted, sipping at her coffee. “How was your last chemo appointment?”

            “Fine, made me tired, but I’m fine,” Stiles sat down at the counter, pulling out his phone. Scott came down, shirtless with an annoyed look.

            “I am so fucking tired!” He yelled, yawning. “I got no sleep!”

            “Scott, language,” Melissa warned, giving Scott the evil eye. If anyone was ever given the evil eye by Melissa, it was BAD.

            “Sorry,” He scratched his head and went into the laundry room, reappearing with a clean shirt and a pair of jeans. He grabbed his backpack from in front of the door. “Bye mom, have a good day!” They left and headed for school. When Stiles pulled in, he immediately got his stuff and went inside. He needed to get the notes from the day before. He got to the classroom really early and grabbed the missing notes binder off of the shelf close to the teacher’s desk. He thumbed through the binder and found the notes he was missing and copied them down in his composition notebook. He finished and put the binder back and headed to his first hour which was on the other side of the school. It was Coach Finstock’s Econ class. He took another year of it because it looked good on a college application, and why not?

            “Stilinski,” Coach said loudly, like usual. “Spring workouts start next month, are you going to be there?”

            “I should be,” Stiles said, sitting on top of the desk.

            “Good,” Stiles sat and Coach started class. “Today, we’re going to watch a movie, because I don’t really have a lesson planned today, so, we’re going to watch The Social Network, it’s a good movie that describes the kind of how our economy works,” Stiles took that as an immediate invitation to pull his cellphone out. He saw he had a text from Derek.

            **Officially stumped. Cannot finish chapter.**

**So that means I can read it? Stiles gets to read Derek’s story?**

**Yeah, I guess…**

Derek sent him a PDF

            **No fucking way** –Stiles texted him

            **What?**

**You’re the author of the Rocky Fork Murder Mystery series?**

**I’m surprised you didn’t figure that out faster, you have the whole series on your shelves**

**Well, in my opinion, you should have Lilly find out that her mother isn’t really dead from a couple of books ago**

**Anything else?**

**You need more?**

**I am suffering from writer’s block Stiles, I need more!  
          Okay, and then Lily’s mom actually gets killed in front of her in the last couple chapters, so you can continue it to the next book that I know you’ll write because if you don’t, so help me I will beat the blue out of your eyes**

**Thanks! That’s brilliant. I love you!**

**I love you too!**

Stiles flew through the rest of his day, heading to lunch after second period. He ran into Landon, who was half limping over to sit with them.

            “How’s the leg?” He asked.

            “Still hurts, but it’s not bad. I cut the stitches this morning,”

            “Well, at least it’s healing,” Scott said, biting into a cafeteria hamburger. Stiles started to feel a little sick to his stomach, probably from the chemo catching up with him. He quickly took medication to settle his stomach, drinking it down with chocolate milk. He took one sip of chocolate milk, his mouth not accepting the taste. He spit it all over the lunch table and looked down at the bottle to see that it had curdled and was completely chunky. His stomach turned sour and he immediately vomited all over the inside of the trashcan. He wiped his mouth and dragged himself over back towards the table. Scott handed him his water bottle and Stiles took another pill.

            “I don’t think this is going to work,” Stiles sighed and threw his tray away. His stomach hurt, and the medication wouldn’t feel good on an empty stomach, so the only thing he could do is not eat. Scott seemed kind of pissed off at that. He got up and went over to the lunch counter. “Landon, listen in on what he’s saying,” Landon nodded. Stiles watched as Scott yelled at one of the ladies, carrying a crate full of chocolate milk.

            “He says that it is fucking ridiculous that he had curdled milk and that it made him sick,” Landon recited, looking towards them. “He is pissed,” Stiles watched as Scott continued to argue with one of the ladies. “You’re not going to be happy,” Landon said, eyes widening.

            “Why?”

            “He just brought up your cancer and is making the lady cry,” Stiles looked hurt. He got up and tore Scott from the conversation.      
            “I told you it wasn’t that big of a deal!” Stiles yelled, grabbing Scott’s shirt.

            “Dude, it is important you get nourishment, I can’t let my brother go without lunch!”

            “It’s not that big of a deal, okay, Scott, seriously, just come on,” Stiles pulled him back over to the table.

            “You need to go home,”

            “I’m fine,”

            “No, when you have a sick stomach, then it doesn’t go away. My mom said that when you were vomiting your guts out,” Stiles held his finger up and went to the trash can closest to him. “See?”  
            “I can’t go home! I have to stay!”

            “Look, my mom isn’t working today, just go over there, if all else, come back when you’re feeling better and have my mom sign off for it,”

            “Really, I’m fine,”

            “I’m walking you to your Jeep, and you don’t have a choice,”

            “You suck,”

            “Well, I’m being responsible, and sometimes responsibility sucks,” Scott guided Stiles outside to his Jeep. Stiles turned the key and Roscoe revved. He drove from the parking lot towards Scott’s house, pulling into their driveway. He shuffled through his key ring and found their house key and went inside.

            “What are you doing here?” Melissa demanded, in the middle of folding clothes. Stiles ran towards the closest restroom and emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet. He went back into the living room.

            “Bad milk, I couldn’t take my medication in time, and I keep throwing up,” Melissa quickly ran to the bathroom and grabbed a pink bottle of medicine, that looked familiar from the last time Melissa came over for the same issue. Stiles drank some of it and then took another pill. He managed to keep it down, and Melissa insisted that he lay on the couch. “I’m sorry,”

            “Sweetie, it’s fine, you can’t control it,” She petted Stiles’ hair.

            “Please don’t tell my dad, he’ll go into freak out mode, can this just be a ‘you and I’ thing?”

            “I won’t say anything unless it gets worse, in which case, I have to tell him,”

            “Okay, thank you,” Stiles slowly started to drift off to sleep, his stomach getting a little more settled.

                        ~~~*~~~  
            Stiles woke up in his own bed, not remembering how he got there. He pulled his eyes open and looked around the room. He saw Derek in the far corner of the room, reading one of Stiles’ books. He moaned and rolled over.

            “How are you feeling?”

            “Tired,” Stiles responded, curling up in a ball.

            “Do you want me to join you?”

            “Is my dad home?”

            “Nope. Sounded like he had a double shift tonight,” Stiles nodded and Derek stripped himself of his clothing. Stiles pulled his own shirt over his head and slowly kicked his jeans off, and then his boxers. He could feel Derek’s bare skin against his back, and he really liked that feeling. Derek licked the nape of Stiles’ neck and started sucking in one area, leaving a hickey. He traced his fingers around Stiles’ bare back and started walking his fingers lower and lower. Stiles had shivers going up his spine as he leaned into Derek, who was slowly sliding into Stiles. He tensed up and grabbed backwards towards Derek’s neck and gave him upside down kisses, Spiderman style, and grabbed a fistful of his hair.

            “Derek, this isn’t my first rodeo,” he panted. Derek grunted and shoved himself towards Stiles, making him scream. “Fuck!” Derek then pulled out, and Stiles slowly put his clothes back on.  He then stripped the sheets and threw them in his hamper, pulling an identical pair from his closet. He reset the bed and crawled back in. “Derek?”

            “Yes?”

            “Will you take me to get my tattoo tomorrow?”

            “Are you sure you want to do it tomorrow?”

            “Yes, because tomorrow Lydia is having a party, and I’m going to get completely hammered so I won’t wuss out,”

            “Should I really contribute to a teenager getting drunk off of his ass?”

            “I really think you should,”

            “Fine. Have you told your dad about your tattoo?”

            “Yes!”

            “Stiles,”

            “Okay, so maybe I forgot to,”

            “You tell him when he gets home,”

            “Fine!” Stiles rolled his shoulder back and cracked his back. He sighed and buried himself into his covers. “Derek, will you read to me?” He heard Derek sigh and shuffle around for The Fault in Our Stars and found it.

            “We left off at the same spot, right?”

            “Yeah,”

            “Okay,” Derek grabbed his dorky glasses out of his pocket and started reading. It was to the part when Hazel was in the hospital and Augustus is describing how he snuck in to see her in the ICU. Derek stopped for a second. “You know I would do the same for you, right?” Derek said, pushing his glasses up to set on his forehead.

            “I know,” Stiles said. He curled a little closer to Derek. Derek started back reading, and as he read, he petted through Stiles’ short hair. Stiles started to crawl into Derek’s lap, setting his head on his leg. They started flying through the book, all the way to the point when they got to Amsterdam and Augustus told Hazel that his cancer came back. By then, Stiles was nearly crying. “Derek! It’s so sad!”

            “I told you I didn’t want to read it, is this your first time reading it?” Stiles nodded. “Jesus Christ, this is the saddest book ever, it’s amazing, but it is horrifying,”

            “You’ve read it?”

            “Yes, in high school, I was a big John Green fan, so, of course I read it! The day we found out you had it, I almost burned my copy of the book I was so upset,” Stiles managed to smile a little bit and Derek took his sleeve and pulled the tears off of Stiles’ face.

            “I’m sorry, I’m an emotional wreck, and I probably will be the rest of the week,” He didn’t think Derek got the hint, and he was okay with that. It was the anniversary of his mother’s death, and also the anniversary of when his dad was drunk and upset and threw a whiskey bottle at him, sending him to the hospital with 39 stitches. He knew his dad didn’t mean it, and his dad was crying about it for the longest time and was really upset with himself that he did that, and maybe that’s why he was so protective of Stiles now.

            “It’s okay, we all have our days, or weeks,” Derek finished where he left off and Stiles held him closer. He was feeling neglect, like he usually did. He got up and dug between his mattress and bedframe to grab his mom’s college sweater which still had her scent on it, and he nuzzled it close to his face. Derek started rubbing Stiles’ back as they read, occasionally sneaking kisses on Stiles’ forehead. Derek stopped reading when they had Augustus’ practice funeral and marked the spot with a post it. He planted another kiss on Stiles’ cheek and left him there to drift back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I haven't updated in a while! It's EOC season at school and I've been trying to complete 16 page (!!!) EOC packets and finish up all of my final projects. I AM SO SORRY! And I kind of listened to the Bastille album on repeat writing the rest of this story, so, lo siento, but it's an amazing album. Thank you all for reading (there's still a lot more to come)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the anniversary of Claudia passing, which results in panic attacks and a night of wasted teenagers. More family drama occurs during the annual camping trip

“Mom?” Stiles asked, cuddling deep into her arms, his small little hands wrapping around her arm. She patted him on the head and rustled his hair.

“Yes Stiles?”

“Am I dying?”

“Honey, you’re perfectly fine, I promise,” She grinned a little bit, burying his face in her long mahogany hair.

“I have a secret,” He said, giggling with joy.

“What is that?” He got close and put his hands around her ear and whispered.

“I love you,” She smiled and pecked a kiss on his forehead.

“I love you too,” She picked him up and carried him from the couch to his bedroom, setting him in bed, which had a Batman bedspread. She tucked in all of the corners of the covers around him and he pulled his arms up.

“Can we read a story tonight?”

“Which one do you want?”  
            “Where the Wild Things are,” Stiles pointed to his painted blue bookshelf that sat on the ground. Claudia got on her hands and knees and looked though the stack and finally found it. She waved the paperback book in the air before sitting next to Stiles on the bed and reading it, her voice like silk. She thumbed through the pages as Stiles slowly drifted to sleep.

            ~~~*~~~  
            Stiles opened his eyes and looked around the room.

“Mom?” He said, silence answering. “MOM?” His chest started to tighten and he started hyperventilating. At this point he was on the floor, grabbing his knees to his chest and near to tears. He cried out for her, knowing that she wasn’t going to be there.

“Stiles?” Derek came running into the room. Stiles was now crying and screaming. Derek grabbed him and rocked him back and forth until he calmed down a little bit.

“Derek…she’s gone…I want my mom…” Stiles said between sobs. He swallowed hard before continuing to sob.

“You’re okay,” Derek soothed him, rubbing up and down his back, like his mom and Melissa did. Stiles calmed down, stopped screaming, and just hugged Derek who was wiping tears off of Stiles’ face with his sleeve. Stiles looked at the date: January 11th. It was the day. The day that no one just “talked” about. It was the day that Stiles usually skipped school, the day when Stiles didn’t talk to his dad, and the day where it seemed like he dropped off of the face of the earth. All for good reason. That’s the reason he wanted to go to Lydia’s party tonight, so he could forget the day, and also get his tattoo.

“I’m sorry,” was the only thing Stiles said. He picked himself up off of the floor and laid back in his bed.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, it’s not your fault,” That is what Stiles told himself later that night when his dad threw the bottle at him, knocking him out cold. Stiles felt his forehead where the scar was. He took a deep breath and pulled the covers over his head. “Don’t you want to get up?”

“Not until Lydia’s party,” Stiles groaned. He stuck his hand out and checked under the mattress for the sweatshirt and pulled it back up again, the scent pretty much gone from using it so much lately. He kept his head under the covers.

“C’mon Stiles, get up,” Derek said, tugging lightly on the comforter. Stiles pulled the comforter back.

“No. I don’t want to,”

“Jesus Christ Stiles, you are acting like a fucking child, c’mon. Do you wanna go to the mall, or the library, or the park, or Barnes & Noble?”

“I guess,” Stiles literally flopped out of his bed onto the floor. He half crawled to the bathroom and started brushing his teeth. His hair was almost passed buzz cut, and could now kind of brush through it. He wiped his eyes and spit into the sink. He grabbed and hand towel and wiped his mouth. He looked at himself in the mirror, seeing dark circles lining his eyes. He took his medication, sighed, and rustled through his drawers for a shirt.

“Here,” Derek tossed Stiles a shirt. He put it on and could smell Derek on it. It was obviously one of Derek’s black V-neck t-shirts that he had brought in case he spent the night. Stiles pulled the collar up on it and inhaled. It was comforting. He liked how soft it was against his chest.

“Thanks,” Stiles pulled his nose under the collar and inhaled the scent. He threw on a pair of jeans and his favorite pair of custom converse that cost A LOT. That reminded him that he forgot to submit his application for the music store to give music lessons. “Do you mind if we stop by the music store? I have to submit an application,”

“Why are you getting a job? That means less time with me!” Derek said, pulling his arm around Stiles’ shoulder.

“I need money to fund my expensive gas bill on ol’ Roscoe, and it gives me something to do than sit here and stress out about everything, and I can do something that I love,” Stiles grabbed his jacket and threw on a pair of vans as he grabbed the application from the stack of papers on his desk. He walked with Derek to the car as Derek turned the key in the ignition. They headed over towards the music store. Derek followed Stiles as he pulled the door open, a small ding alerting the staff that they were entering. Stiles went up to the circular counter that was placed in the middle of the store and stood there, waiting for some staff. Derek started walking around, looking at the electric guitars and basses. Stiles looked down at the array of picks that they had for guitar. One of them had a cancer ribbon on it with a red background that read **Fuck Cancer**. Stiles liked it. Finally, an older man with a beard came to the counter.

“What can I help you with?”

“I wanted to submit this application,” Stiles handed him the application and he flipped through the pages. Stiles rocked back on his heels, humming a song.

“It says that you know piano, guitar, drums, and bass, is that correct?” Stiles walked over to one of the guitars and shredded a Van Halen song on it. He then put it back on the hooks that it was hanging from on the wall and walked back over to the house. “That was impressive,”

            “Thanks,” He continued to look through the application expressionless.

            “Well, everything looks all right to me, thank you for dropping this by, we’ll contact you,” Stiles smiled and nodded.

            “Thank you, oh, and can I have that pick?” Stiles pointed at the pick that he saw.

            “Sure thing,” Stiles pulled out his debit card and handed it to the man who swiped it on the machine and handed Stiles the pick, and his card back. “Is it in support for someone?” He asked.

            “Yeah, it is,” Derek walked up to Stiles and smacked a big kiss on his cheek.

            “Are you ready to go hon?” Derek asked.

            “Yup. I got a new pick!” He shoved it near Derek’s face.

            “It’s awesome, did you see that amazing guitar over there?”

            “Which one? The Gibson?”

            “Yeah, it was nice looking,”

            “Isn’t she?” The man said, leaning over the counter.

            “She sure is,” Stiles left the store with Derek, carrying the pick in his wallet in one of the photo sleeves. Then, Derek drove to Barnes and Noble. Hey, will you grab that CD? Derek gestured towards the shelf that held one CD. He pulled it out of the case and played it. He immediately recognized it as his own voice.

            “Derek!   Turn it off!”

            “No, it’s beautiful,”

            “Please Derek, I hate hearing my voice!” Stiles pulled the CD out. “I didn’t think you still had this,”

            “Of course I still have it, I listen to it every time I’m in the car at least once,”

            “Why?”

            “Do you want me to be honest?”

            “Yes, that would be preferred,”

            “Well, it’s the only thing that gets me through the day, the only thing that makes me think that everything will end up okay,” Stiles didn’t know what to say. He just sat there, letting the silence fill the car. “And since you won’t let me listen to the CD, sing a song for me,”

            “Derek,” Stiles rolled his eyes and racked his brain for a [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=450p7goxZqg).

            “What would I do without your smart mouth? Drawing me in and you kicking me out. Got my head spinning, no kidding, I can’t pin you down. What’s going on in that beautiful mind? I’m on your magical mystery ride, and I’m so dizzy, don’t know what hit me but I’ll be alright. My head’s under water but I’m breathing fine. You’re crazy and I’m out of my mind. Because all of me, loves all of you. Love your curves and all your edges, all your perfect imperfections. Give your all to me, give my all to you. You’re my end and my beginning, even when I lose I’m winning, because I give you all of me, and you give me all of you,” Stiles stopped singing as Derek pulled into the Barnes and Noble parking area of the mall.

            “That was great, you made my day,” Derek opened his door and locked the doors with the remote on his key ring. Stiles scuffled his feet on the parking lot as they walked. Derek grabbed his side and curled his arm around Stiles. “What do you want to do here?” Derek asked, pulling the large door open with ease.

            “I wanted to get a book here,” Stiles ran into the store and searched until he found a table full of books, all the same book. The sign on the table read “New Release” and Stiles grabbed a copy.

            “No.” Derek said sternly.

            “It’s the Rocky Fork Murder Mystery book, the most recent one, written by whom? None other than D.H. Smith, also known as Derek Hale. It’s the new one.

            “You can’t get that!”

            “Why not?”

            “Because.”

            “Because why?”

            “Well, I was going to keep it a surprise, but I’ll just show you,” Derek plucked the book from Stiles’ fingers and flipped through the first couple of pages. He pulled out his glasses and read. “This book is dedicated to the love of my life, my moon and stars, and without him none of this would be possible, Stiles Stilinski.” Stiles was now a mess. He was blubbering in the middle of the store with everyone looking at him. One of the clerks came by.

            “Are you okay sir?” She asked.

            “I’m perfect. My boyfriend dedicated his book to me,”

            “Oh my god, you’re D.H. Smith?” Derek nodded. She scrambled around the nearest desk and grabbed a pen. “Will you sign this for me?”

            “Sure,” Derek put his fake signature inside the front cover of the book. The work woman ran back to whatever kiosk she was working at and Derek released a deep breath. “I have a copy for you at home,” Derek said, as Stiles grabbed another one. He dropped the book and threw his arms around Derek’s neck, nuzzling his head in his shoulder.

            “I love you,” Stiles said, Derek patting his back.

            “I love you more,” Stiles wiped the tears that were streaming down his face onto Derek’s shirt and started to laugh a little bit. “Where do you want to go next?”

            “I think I want to get my tattoo,” Stiles said, more confidently through sniffles into Derek’s collar.

            “I thought you wanted to be wasted,”

            “Me too, but I want to do it, now, right now,”

            “Did you ever ask your dad about it?” Shit. Stiles had forgotten to tell his dad.

            “I mentioned it to him,” Which wasn’t a lie. He did mention it to him, but just as an idea, and a joke a couple of years ago.

            “And he said…”

            “He said sure,” Of course, Sheriff Stilinski said it in a sarcastic tone, still wasn’t a lie. Stiles started to pull the design out of his pocket that was folded on a piece of notebook paper. It wasn’t very elaborate, but it wasn’t meant to be. Why put a whole bunch of color and ideas into a simple design when the truth behind it is much more elaborate? Derek nodded in approval and they walked out of Barnes and Noble.

                        ~~~*~~~

             Stiles sat in the red chair of the tattoo parlor, nervously tapping his fingers on each other. The tattoo artist came back with the stencil design to follow and pressed the black temporary ink around his bicep. Stiles watched as the man pulled out the needle and buzzed it a couple of times. Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand and closed his eyes as he felt the needle press into his skin. It didn’t hurt as badly as he had though it would, and maybe that was just because Derek was taking away his pain, but it still made him nervous that there was a needle that close to his arm.

            “You’re done,” The artist finally said, wiping at the tattoo with a white cloth to get the excess ink off. He took a good look at it in the mirror next to him.

            “It looks nice,” Derek commented, staring at it. It was perfect. It was everything that he ever wanted expressed on his arm. He smiled as the tattoo artist wrapped his arm with gauze and taped it. He gave him some instructions that just flew out of his head. He was mesmerized. He had actually done it. Stiles paid for the tattoo and got into Derek’s Camaro.

            “So, what do you think?” Stiles asked, rubbing his arm. He loved the idea of it being there, it made him feel strong and confident.

            “I think it’s great, it’s beautiful actually, and I love the way you look at it, it’s like you have a new sparkle in your eye, a new found adoration of yourself,” And it couldn’t have been explained any better. Stiles really did have an adoration for himself, in the most non-narcissistic type of way. He had a little more hope for himself that everything would turn out okay, even though this was supposed to be the worst day ever, because it had been for the past couple of years.

            “Thanks. Are we going back to your place?”

            “We can, if that’s what you want,”

            “I don’t want to go home yet. My dad has awful coping problems around now,” Stiles knew Derek could read between the lines. It was pretty obvious that he had a drinking problem, considering he always had multiple empty bottles of whiskey just lying around his office. Many. Many bottles. Derek turned down a street towards his apartment. “Do you have any booze?”

            “Stiles, its 4 o’clock in the afternoon, and you’re eighteen,” Derek pressed. “At least have some class to wait an hour or so, and should you really be mixing alcohol with your meds?”

            “I don’t know, guess we’ll find out,”

            “That’s an awful idea you realize,”

            “Just let me have this night, okay. It is one of the roughest days of the year. It’s pretty bad. I know you lost your family suddenly in a fire, and that’s awful, but you didn’t watch your mother slowly rot away in a hospital bed, forget your name, and scream in terror, okay? It’s awful. I held her hand that night, brushed my fingers though her hair. I told her I loved her, and she said she loved me too. That was the first time in months that she hadn’t even questioned who I was. She pecked a kiss on my cheek and looked up at me. She had really blue eyes. And I watched as her eyelids slowly fluttered closed and the machines were beeping, and a nurse carried me out. I was crying, and trying to get back into the room, and Melissa picked me up and carried me to one of the empty rooms and rubbed my back and told me everything would be okay. I knew it wouldn’t be. My whole life crumbled in a matter of minutes. I can’t un-see that Derek, my 11 year old self can’t just pretend that didn’t happen,” Stiles had a couple of tears start to drip down his face and he quickly whisked them away. Derek drove speechless.

            When they got out of the car, Stiles followed Derek up to the apartment and laid on his couch, unmotivated to do anything.

            “Are you still up to go to Lydia’s party tonight?”

            “Might as well. I can say that I went to a party and got hammered. Scratch that one off of the list,” Stiles mimicked the motion of crossing that off of his bucket list in the air. “And I’m sorry I blew up in the car, that was inappropriate,”

            “No, that’s about 7 years of feelings that you have suppressed finally coming out, and that needed to happen. You don’t have to apologize,” Derek plopped down next to Stiles, throwing a blanket over him.

            “You know my PET scan is Tuesday, right?”

            “Yes’m,” Derek answered, turning on the TV.

            “I’m afraid of what the news might be,” Stiles’ voice cracked a little. He was barely able to finish the sentence.

            “Whatever happens, we’ll handle it,”

            “We’ll?”

            “You, me, and Scott. We will handle it,” Derek said, slightly sternly. “Because leaving is NOT an option. Do you hear me? You aren’t going anywhere,”

            “Okay,” Stiles crawled to the other side of the couch and laid his head in Derek’s lap. “When does Lydia’s party start?”

            “In an hour or so, why?”

            “Do I have enough time to take a nap before? Sleep this off?”

            “You sure do like sleeping,”

            “Sleep fights cancer, quoting John Green,”

            “You are too much,”

            “Well, obviously not, because you seem to be handling me pretty well,”

            “Stop.”

            “What?”

            “You know what,”

            “Okay,” Stiles drew out the y in the phrase and nuzzled his head closer to Derek. He reached into the front pocket of his jeans and felt for the guitar pick. He played with it in his fingers for a while. It calmed him down. He then drifted to sleep on Derek’s lap, hearing the faint dialogue of Hannibal slowly fade away.

                        ~~~*~~~  
            “Wake up, we have to go to the party,” Derek nudged Stiles awake, and he yawned.

            “Okay, let’s go, just let me…” Stiles reached under the couch for his shoes and slipped them on. He curled his feet under him as he searched the couch cushions for his cell phone that had slipped out of his hands in mid nap. He pulled his feet out from under him and ran over to the counter where Derek was grabbing his keys and wallet. Stiles stood on his toes and looked over the counter to see general things on it, such as a notepad with a couple of pens, a basket full of fresh fruit, a few coins, and some mail. He thought Derek was a more interesting person than that. Stiles took the notepad and scribbled a note on it and unstuck it from the rest of the pile. He stuck the note to Derek’s forehead and smiled. “Perfect,” Derek spun around and looked into the reflection of the microwave to see what Stiles had done. He took the note off of his head and read it.

            **Property of Stiles. If you fucking touch him I will punch you directly in the fucking face**

“Possessive much?” Derek said, sticking the note to one of the cabinets. “I’m not wearing that to the party, who’s even going to be there anyway?”

            “Lydia said that it was just a small gathering,”

            What an understatement that was. Pretty much the whole senior class (and, holy shit, are those sophomores?) was there. They walked around Lydia’s crowded living room and Stiles poured himself some punch. He took a swig and made a sour face.

            “Oh, god, what is this spiked with?” Stiles practically yelled over the loud music.

            “Moonshine, it’s an apple pie!” Lydia answered, hoping up on her counter over Danny, (who was now shirtless) and pouring a body shot, where multiple people licked up his abdomen for the alcohol. Stiles looked back over at Derek who took a big swig out of Stiles’ cup.

            “Damn, that’s a strong apple pie, even for me,” Derek took another large gulp.

            “Hands off Sourwolf, get your own,” Stiles downed the rest of the cup and dunked it back into the punchbowl and drank half of it in a matter of seconds.

            “You’re drinking that a little fast,”

            “Am I?” Stiles asked, giggling. “I’ve been told I’m fast,”

            “Stiles,” Derek said, smiling and chuckling to yourself. “No one ever told me you were a fun drunk, maybe we should drink with you more often,”

            “How about every day!” Stiles yelled over everyone. He immediately jumped up on Lydia’s coffee table and started dancing. He pulled his arms free from his shirt and bunched it up around his collar like a scarf. He then attempted to do a handstand on the side of the table and the thing damn near tipped before he went crashing head first into the ground. He pumped his fists up in victory and wiped his mouth.

            “Drink this,” Derek handed him a bottle of water that he had acquired from Lydia’s fridge. Stiles took the bottle, unscrewed the cap, and dumped the water on the floor. He then grabbed the nearly full bottle of jaeger from the counter and drank from the bottle. He then took the bottle and staggered over to Derek.

            “Open your mouth,” Stiles said. Derek did and Stiles poured the contents all over his face. When the bottle was empty, Derek lapped at his face and wiped the excess liquid from his face. Stiles saw that Scott was staggering with a flask in his hand, the content inside most likely laced with wolfsbane, and he fell through the empty doorway to go to the patio. Stiles staggered over there and gave him a drunken, shaky hand. Scott took it and pulled himself to a wobbling, standing position. “You, you, you need to be careful, Scott, you, you might get hurt, and you’re mom will kill you, and my mom will kill me. They’ll be disappointed in us. Or are they already? Wait, what?” Stiles lost his train of thought. Lydia was already passed out cold drunk on her couch and the party started to die down a little bit. A lot of people left, except for most of the lacrosse team, Danny, Stiles, Derek, Scott, and a couple of kids Stiles wasn’t familiar with. Danny was passed out with his head in one of the flowerpots outside, Scott was back on the ground and just kind of crawled under one of the patio tables, and everyone else was scattered about the house, about to pass out.

            “Are you ready to go?” Derek asked, tapping Stiles on the shoulder.

            “Ooh, hey Derek, when did you get here?”

            “We need to get you home, you are wasted,”

            “Whoooo! Wasted sounds fun. I wanna-I wanna be wasted. Derek, will you get me wasted?”

            “I can’t if you already are,”

            “But-C’mon, I’m not wasted, I’m not even tipsy,” Just as Stiles said that, he took a crash to the ground, Derek not catching him. Derek picked him up and carried him to his car. Stiles didn’t know what time it was, and everything looked fuzzy, his belly warm with alcohol. Derek sat him in the passenger, and before Derek shut the door, Stiles threw up all over the curb.

            “Lovely,” Derek commented, closing the door. He got into the driver’s seat and started driving towards Stiles’ house.

            “Can we go to Waffle House?” Stiles asked, laughing. “Oh my god, we have to go there Der, it has to happen,”

            “We’re going to a house,”

            “Yeah! Waffle House!” Stiles cheered. Derek stopped at a stop sign and Stiles opened the door again to spew into the street. He shut the door when he was done and wiped his mouth. Derek pulled into Stiles’ driveway and opened the car door and unbuckled Stiles and threw him over his shoulder. Stiles felt as Derek slipped his arms back through the shirt he was wearing and felt Derek walk up all of the stairs inside the house. He closed his eyes and Derek laid him on his bed and pulled a blanket over him and dragged a trashcan next to the bed.

            “Go to sleep, you’ll feel better,” Stiles again emptied the contents of his stomach into the trashcan and laid back down.

            “Okay,”

                        ~~~*~~~

            Stiles woke up with a pounding headache and he felt like complete shit. He groaned and rubbed his head. His mouth was dry and he felt like he was gross. He got up and went downstairs, closing his eyes from the bright sunlight coming in from the window. He immediately went to the fridge and searched for something to drink. There were two bottles of Gatorade, one strawberry, the other blue. He knew Derek must have left them. He grabbed the blue one and downed most of it. He could hear his dad shuffling around in the living room. He walked in to see his dad flipping through channels, still in his flannel pajama pants and a white t-shirt.

            “Morning,” His dad said, scooting over on the couch. “What’s with the bandage?” Stiles’ heart leap into his throat.

            “Uhh, umm, well, dad, I uh,”

            “Quit stalling,”

            “I got a tattoo,” Stiles said. He started to unwrap the bandage to reveal the tattoo. Wow, was it really that big when he first got it?”

            “Jesus Christ, that’s… that’s unexpected. Wow, it’s, I mean, it’s nice, it’s just…”

            “Just what?”  
            “I never thought you would actually go through with it. Shit Stiles, I’m actually pretty proud that you sat that long to get this tattooed on your body, without fidgeting, or freaking out about the needle, or anything,” John rubbed his thumb over the tattoo, Stiles wincing just a little bit. “What’s it mean?”

            “It’s Celtic for strength. I wanted it to motivate me,” Stiles said, wrapping it back up. “To be honest, I thought that you would be pissed,”

            “I saw it on your list, and I promised you that we would finish the list before you might, kick the bucket,” That’s when John started to tear up a little bit. “I don’t like thinking that my 18 year old son might not be here anymore, and I don’t want to leave anything undone,” Stiles hated when his dad cried.

            “Okay dad,” He hugged him, his dad burying his face in his back. He patted his back and looked up at his dad.

            “Your mother would have been proud of this, she would have been proud of you,” Stiles didn’t know how to respond. “Might I ask you a question?”        

            “What would that be?”

            “Did you drink last night?” The night of Stiles dancing on Lydia’s coffee table, practically dunking his face in the punch bowl, and chugging half a bottle of jaeger, doing a handstand and hitting his head.

            “No… why?”

            “Because I saw you in your room, you smelled like someone dropped an entire keg on you, you were spewing into a trashcan, and you have a huge lump on your head,”

            “Okay, so maybe I had a few drinks,” Stiles tried to compromise.

            “Well, at least you can cross off getting a tattoo and going to a party off of the list,” Stiles quickly ran upstairs and grabbed the list and the pen, and crossed those two things off. The list now looked like this.

1)         ~~Race dirt bikes down at the track~~

2)         Write another song

3)         Play at least one more game of lacrosse with my team

4)         Go to the beach

5)         Go to Disney Land

6)         Take a trip to Oregon

7)         Go to prom

8)         Submit an art portfolio

9)         Have a picnic (with a certain Sourwolf)

10)       ~~Get a tattoo~~

11)       Go to the city with my friends

12)       ~~Go to a party~~

13)       Write notes on a balloon and release it into the air

14)       Tour Berkeley

15)       Go floating and camping

16)       ~~Venture off in the woods~~

17)       Write a message in a bottle

18)       Go back to the pier

19)       Spend a weekend in San Francisco

20)       Go back to the Stilinski farm

21)       Make a CD of memorable songs

22)       Make a time capsule

23)       Marry Derek Hale

            He set the list on the inn table and scratched his head.

            “Isn’t this the weekend that we’re going up to the Stilinski farm to go camping or something?” Stiles said, yawning.

            “Shit,” John said, getting up quickly. “I haven’t even packed. We are supposed to leave in two hours with Scott and Melissa!” The Stilinski family always went camping around the middle of January, because the weather was always decent, the river was never too cold, and it always worked out pretty well. They had been inviting the McCall family for a while, and it was just a tradition that they come as well. Stiles decided that he was going to take a break from Derek for a while. Derek had to get started on his next book, and also had his own stuff going on. Sometimes Stiles thought of himself as Derek’s distraction from getting anything done, and he was okay with that.

            “I need to take a shower, but I’m pretty much packed,” Stiles said, slowly preparing the week before. All he needed was a couple of pairs of shoes, his pillow, and his meds and he was ready to go.

            “Okay, well, hurry up, I still need to pack the cooler before we hit the store with Scott and Melissa for burger and such,” Stiles headed upstairs and took a shower. His hair was starting to grow out a little longer, and he could sort of brush it through with his fingers. He could actually wash it and kind of gel it up. He had been secretly waiting for his hair to grow back so Derek could run his fingers through it. He liked when he did that. Stiles stood in the shower, letting the hot water soak him and scorch out the stiffness in his muscles, and possibly end his hangover. He got out of the shower, dried off, and threw on some clothes. He then proceeded to take his multiple medications and shove them into the side pocket of his duffle bag, along with his toothbrush, cell phone charger, and his box of picks (because his dad always insisted on him bringing his guitar. Whatever), making sure that the **Fuck Cancer** pick was inside of it. He put his acoustic guitar in his hard case and slung it over his back, and the duffle bag over his shoulder. He carried his crap downstairs and set it near the door and started grabbing the camping stuff out of the garage. Everything was on random shelves that all belonged in an outdoor patio box that they brought with them. He then proceeded to pack the marshmallow roasting sticks, the pie makers (yes, they could make small personal pies when they camped, even though the thought of apple pie kind of made Stiles want to vomit), the large kettle, griddle, a couple of lawn chairs, sleeping bags, paper towels, plastic utensils, lanterns, flashlights, batteries, and about six cans of bug spray and sunscreen. John opened the door of the garage and opened the back of Stiles’ jeep and helped him load the patio box into the back. He then threw his guitar, pillow, and the bags on top of the box, leaving plenty of room for Scott and Melissa’s stuff, and the coolers (that were soon to be full of ice and food). Stiles now had the wrapping around his tattoo off because it was kind of a loss cause anyway, and got into the driver’s side of the Jeep.

            “You aren’t driving,” John said sternly, waiting for him to get out from behind the wheel.

            “Just to the McCall’s house, then you can drive as much as you please, but Roscoe is my baby, and he likes me better,” John sighed, rolled his eyes, and got into the other side of the jeep. The drive was pretty short. Stiles backed the Jeep up into the driveway and the McCall’s garage door started to open. They started to load lawn chairs, a few groceries, and their bags into the back, along with a couple of coolers. Stiles got into the back with still hung-over Scott.

            “Nice tat, when did you get it?”

            “Yesterday before Lydia’s party,”  
            “Looks nice,” Scott rubbed his temples and laid his head backwards and groaned. “My head is pounding!”

            “You passed out outside,” Stiles said, laughing.

            “You did a handstand on Lydia’s coffee table and hit your head on the ground,”

            “At least I got Derek to take me home,”

            “Well, if you were wondering, Lydia’s patio is very comfortable,” Stiles shook his head. He got his phone out and started scrolling through Tumblr, reblogging a couple of Supernatural pictures. He had a niche for Supernatural. And Breaking Bad. And Brooklyn-99.

            “Hey dad, can we listen to my playlist?”

            “As long as it’s not Red Hot Chili Peppers,”

            “Mom!”

            “Or Wu-Tang Clan,”

            “MOM.”  
            “Or 2 Chains,”

            “God, do you hate me?” Scott yelled in protest. “C’mon mom, really, Wu-Tang Clan?”

            “I am sick of that CD blaring every time I get into the car,”

            “I was going to suggest Bastille, Fall out Boy, Panic! At the Disco, and Imagine Dragons,”

            “I’ll listen to that,” Scott said, in agreement. Stiles pulled his auxiliary cord that was plugged into his newer stereo and plugged it into his iPod and turned it on said playlist. The first song to come on was Imagine Dragons’ Fallen. John pulled up to Sam’s and parked the Jeep.

            “Do you boys want to go in?”

            “Yeah, let’s go in!” Stiles said, like a 5 year old. They crawled out of the backseat. “Text us when you’re ready to go, we’re going to do our own thing,” Melissa nodded and they parted ways at the door. The first place that Stiles went was over to the candy isle, where a lot of people seemed to be headed.

            “What are we doing?”

            “You’ll see,” Stiles walked down the aisle and looked for a hollow part and then jumped over the candy bars packed in bulk. He crawled under one and got on his stomach. “C’mere,” Scott followed what Stiles did. “And now we wait,” They waited a couple of minutes before a little boy came up to the Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups where they were hiding.

            “Mom, can I get them?”

            “I don’t care,” The boy reached for a box and Stiles stuck his hand where the box was originally. The boy yelped and dropped the peanut butter cups on the ground, running to the next aisle. Scott started to laugh, and so did Stiles as they got back up from their elaborate hiding spot.

            “We are horrible,” Scott said, laughing.

            “Who cares? That kid needs to be prepared for anything, not my fault I might have scarred him for life and he may never go inside this store again, the kid needs to learn,” Scott shook his head. “You are fucking ridiculous, I know a 7 year old you would have flipped out too,”

            “No, I didn’t go to Sam’s when I was 7, because that’s when we still had that nice butcher downtown and we got all of our camping meat there, I mean, here it’s not bad, but it was better there,” Stiles sighed. “Don’t you feel old Scott? You and I are 18, and 11 years ago we were getting in trouble for something stupid that we did, like trying to sneak into an R rated movie because there was nudity, and we were curious kids who, again, were stupid?”

            “Ah, the good times. Now there’s no enjoyment in it when you can just _walk_ into there with no attempt at a plan or anything. It’s so boring when the right is just handed to you, where’s the adventure?”

            “We can make some adventure when we camp this weekend,”  
            “Are you going to be up for that?”

            “Oh god, not you too Scott, seriously?”

            “What?”

            “Stop treating me like a child, if I wasn’t up for it and didn’t think I might be, I wouldn’t have given it as an option, and cancer doesn’t make me 5 years old, I can take care of myself,”

            “I know that, but you’re just…”

            “Just what?”

            “So, breakable,”  
            “I’m already broken Scott, and it is part of being human,”

            “You know I could change you if you wanted me to,” Scott said, planting a hand on Stiles’ shoulder.

            “Yeah, but…”  
            “But what?”

            “I mean, you didn’t really get a choice to be a werewolf or not, and to be honest, I kind of cling onto my humanity, and I want to keep it, because I have never seen myself as a werewolf, and I only want to use this when I’m on my deathbed, you understand?” Scott nodded. “Okay, I love you, but I am fine by myself, and you need to calm down, can you do that?” Scott nodded again. “Alright, now let’s have a kickass weekend, and I swear to god, act like nothing is wrong. This is a bro’s weekend, and it’s not going to be fucking depressing,”

            “Okay! I get it!”

            “Do you really?”  
            “YES!”

            “Okay, well, we should probably go up to the cash registers and wait for our parents,”  
            “Why?”  
            “Because I’m pretty sure that lady is trying to hunt us down so she can beat us with her purse,” They met up with Melissa and John at the cash register and then carried off of the groceries to the Jeep. Stiles unplugged his iPod from the radio as everyone got settled for the long car trip. Stiles plugged in his ear buds and listened to Bastille’s Bad Blood album on shuffle and leaned his head against the window and drifted to sleep. The drive to Mt. Shasta was always a long one, considering it was almost considered in Nevada. Stiles was surprised that his dad had settled in a town like Beacon Hills, but whatever, to each its own.

            Stiles knew that they were almost there by the bumps and turns on the road that jostled him awake. He sighed and looked down the side of the mountain as the Jeep slowly crawled up the road. Scott was passed out on the other side of the Jeep, his chest rising and falling. John turned the car down the familiar gravel road and they were fairly close to the Stilinski farm. He could see the small house a couple of miles away and was filling with excitement and eagerness as they neared.

            “Please, son, don’t be hostile towards your cousins, okay, they just have big city syndrome,” And Stiles was in agreement with that. These cousins were always a bit stuck up, with their noses in the air all the time. Sure, they weren’t completely against camping and being outside, but they were just, awkward. They didn’t fit in as much into all of this, and they couldn’t ever get off of their fucking phones.

            “I will do my best father, but I am promising nothing,” Melissa laughed at that comment and John gave her the “don’t feed into it” face.

            “Well, I feel like that’s the best I’m going to get, so I’ll take it,” John pulled up to the farmhouse and killed the engine. He opened the door and pulled the seat forward so Stiles and groggy Scott could get out of the car. They took a couple of coolers and some duffle bags and set them outside of the house on the deck and then went inside the house. The air smelled like fresh oatmeal cookies and coconut cream pie. Stiles hopped up the stairs to the main part of the house and saw that his grandma was busy bustling around the kitchen making things.

            “Grandma?” Stiles called into the kitchen. She turned her head, her apron covered in flour.

            “Stiles!” She put her stuff down and embraced Stiles in a hug. She took a long look at his arm where the tattoo was. “Where did you get that monstrosity?” She asked, pointing.

            “I got it a couple of days ago. It’s the Celtic meaning of strength, and also,” Stiles paused for a second. “It’s also the thing my mom always put on all of her greeting cards she would send people,”

            “Well, as long as it makes you happy,” She gave him another hug. She then released and looked at his face for a while. “My, you’ve gotten thin, haven’t you?”

            “Yeah, it’s from treatment,” Stiles said. He watched as his grandmother’s face drooped. He already knew that she was going to take it hard if he didn’t make it. “But my hair’s starting to grow back,” He pointed. She seemed pleased with that. She gave a weary smile.

            “Now how about you and Scott go ahead and set up camp down by the river, okay? I need to talk to your dad about some things,” Stiles already knew where this was going. He knew that the conversation was going to be about him, and he respected his grandmother for not having the conversation in front of him, because that was definitely not something he wanted to sit in on. He met Scott on the porch. He was swinging away and playing with Stiles’ grandma’s beagle Buddy. His grandfather had named him before he passed away (which was much less tragic than his mother’s).

            “Let’s load up and set up camp,” Stiles grabbed a cooler and started dragging it down the driveway towards the barn.

            “Don’t we need to wait for your dad?”

            “I was told for us to go on ahead,” Scott shrugged his shoulders and grabbed some more stuff. Stiles pulled one of the barn doors open and walked over to where the lights were. He flipped the switch and grabbed the four wheeler key off of the key hook before slinging his leg over the side of it and backing it out. Once it was out of the barn, Scott came by with the trailer and hitched it on the back. It popped into place with a clank and the boys started to load up the stuff.

            “Why did they want us to go on ahead, they usually want to do it as a family thing, you know, we’re always the first here before your awful cousins get here,”

            “Well, I think they’re having a talk about me and what’s going to happen,” Stiles finished loading the last of the duffle bags and Scott got in the back of the trailer. “I think they’re expecting me to bite it,” Scott didn’t say anything for a while. Stiles started the motor and started driving the four wheeler to the end of the property where their “campsite” was. “You don’t think I’ll bite it, do you Scott?”

            “I sure don’t hope you do, but I mean, there’s always the bite-“

            “I know that, but what happens if I die from that sooner? You never know what might happen,”

            “You bring a good point,” Scott said in agreement. “I won’t pester you,”

            “Thank you. Now let’s have a cancer-free weekend,”

            “Stiles,”  
            “A ‘shut the fuck up Scott, you know what I mean, we’re just not going to talk about it’ weekend,”

            “Okay, do you have the tent?”

            “Right here,” Stiles threw Scott a small rolled bag and he started to undo the bag.

                        ~~~*~~~  
            The first camping trip meltdown started pretty fast. And as always, it started when Stiles’ cousins came. The only difference? The meltdown wasn’t from one of the 10 year old girls who cry about the dirt, or throw a fit because their parents didn’t buy the right brand of soda, or something stupid. This time, it was Stiles who was having the meltdown. He sat in the zipped tent buried in his sleeping bag. He was wiping off the tears that were streaming down his face as he recalled what had happened.

            It was Jeremy. Fucking Jeremy. His snide-ass comments. When the family got out of the car, the first thing he said was, “Where’s your boyfriend?”  
            “I didn’t invite him,”

            “What did he find someone who was more his type, prettier?”  
            “No, he was busy working on his next book,” Stiles snapped back.

            “Maybe he thought cancer was contagious or something,” That was the comment. The straw that broke the camel’s back.

            “I’ll fucking kill you!” Stiles yelled, jumping onto him. They both hit the ground with a thud and he started smashing his head into the ground. Jeremy’s hands crept up and started ringing his neck. Scott’s eyes started to flash red and Melissa immediately grabbed Scott and pulled him away as John and Uncle Andrew tried to separate the boys. Stiles was pulled to the side, leaning up against a tree as his body ached. John looked him up and down and then helped him up off of the ground. Stiles immediately ran into the tent and zipped it closed with as much force as a zipper could express. He wishes it was a door. He heard them talking.

            “What the hell was that Jeremy?” Andrew screamed. “He is your cousin!”

            “It’s not like I chose for that to happen!” Stiles started to get angrier at the comments. “It’s not my fault that he just now chose to come out of the closet, god, no wonder the kid had so many issues!”

            “You do not talk about my son like that young man,” John growled. Stiles could picture his dad grabbing him by the collar. “I don’t know how kids talk to each other in San Francisco, but they sure as hell don’t talk to kids like that in Beacon Hills,”

            “I am disappointed in you,” Grandma Stilinski said. “Everything was perfectly fine and those comments weren’t necessary,”

            “Grandma, he hit me in the face and hit my head against the ground,”

            “Family doesn’t talk about family like that. You brought this upon yourself,” She seemed to be getting angrier as the conversation drew on. “Stiles is dying. He might not have much time left with us, and would you really be okay with those being your last words if he didn’t wake up in the morning, or was rushed to the hospital?” The campsite was silent. Stiles’ stomach leap into his throat and he felt emotion start to swell in him. He choked it back down and listened to the rest of the conversation. “Now go back to the house and get your act cleaned up. Be back by dinner with a smile on your face or so help me god I will make you cut your own switch to whoop you with,” She practically screamed the last part. Stiles had never seen his grandmother be so violent, but maybe she acted like that towards Jeremy because he was just her step-grandson. Janice (Andrew’s wife) divorced her husband and married Andrew. “Stiles?” Stiles poked his head out from the tent. “Come here,” He walked over to his grandmother and felt him grab his face. He was scared on what exactly she would say to him. “Let’s go back to the house and get you cleaned up,” He followed her over to the Ranger (which Melissa and John had driven to get down there) and she drove back to the house.

            “I’m sorry,” Stiles apologized.

            “You probably shouldn’t have acted the way you did,” Stiles looked at the floorboard of the vehicle. “But those comments were unforgiveable. You know we love you for who you are,” Stiles nodded. He remembered the conversation before this, when she said that Stiles was dying.

            “Is that why you wanted to talk to my dad, because I’m dying?” They fell silent for a moment before she responded.

            “Yes,” she shook her head in disbelief. “It’s just, your dad didn’t want to tell you, but in the beginning, they only gave you two months, even with the chemo, and it’s been almost three. I thank god every day that you are still on this earth, but he didn’t want to tell you because he didn’t want you to be depressed about all of it and miss out on being a kid,” Stiles understood. He wished he would have known, but now that he actually does know, he wished that this whole camping trip hadn’t happened and that they would be living on a lie that he was still okay. They went inside the house and Stiles’ grandma dragged him into the bathroom. He jumped up on the counter as she got alcohol and started to clean the cuts around his face. He winced a couple of times when the alcohol stung, but overall it was quiet.

            “Will you do me a favor when I go?” Stiles said, blatantly.

            “What would that be?”

            “Put Scott in your will, and give him Buddy. He loves that dog. I love that dog, but I know that Scott would appreciate that,”

            “I can do that,”

            “Promise?”

            “I promise. Well, we better be getting back to the campsite, we have an early morning tomorrow if we’re going to go floating,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo! Another chapter done! Thanks for the kudos guys! I appreciate it a lot.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More bad news, resulting in another round of chemo. Derek gets really sweet and romantic, and then there's a silver lining to the bad news :)

That night Stiles’ grandma convinced him to stay in the guest room that night to kind of stay away from the angry vibes.

                “I don’t want you getting stressed out, there is no need for you to be stressed out right now,” Stiles didn’t argue. He went up to the guest room he always stayed in, the one with the camouflage sheets and the deer bedspread. He stretched his back and laid down in the bed. This was the only room that he could sleep in without his pillow, because everything in the room felt right, smelled right, and looked right.

                The next morning, Stiles found that someone had brought his duffle bag up to the house. He sighed and changed into his swim trunks and a tank top he had packed. He had assumed it would be hot, because California weather never followed rules. He went downstairs to find his grandma making a little bit of breakfast. She was flipping pancakes on a small skillet.

                “Good morning,” She greeted, He sat down at the table and pulled out the multiple medications he had in his pocket to take with breakfast. He poured himself a glass of milk and started taking the pills, one by one. “Dear lord, that’s more medication than me child,” Stiles finished off the last of his milk and Grandma Stilinski sat a couple of pancakes on his plate. He hadn’t noticed the bacon sitting on the other side of the table. He grabbed a couple of pieces and started munching on them.

                “Is it just you and me?”

                “Yes sir, they’re having camp food, but I figured you would want a little break,”

                “Yeah. I’m still trying to put everything in perspective, you know? I just, I don’t know what do to I guess. I don’t know how I’m going to tell Scott. Or Derek. Or Lydia, or Danny, or Landon. I don’t know what’s going to happen, or what I should do,” His grandma thought for a while, sipping black coffee from a mug with an Allis Charmer tractor printed on it.

                “I don’t want to say this, but the first thing you need is a death suit,” She said, seriously. “I don’t want to be all Debbie Downer on you, but it needs to happen at one point, and it will be easier if you have most of that resolved. Believe me, with your grandfather it was hard. I didn’t know what color of suit he wanted, or what his headstone was supposed to look like, and it put a lot of stress on me, and for the sake of your father, we should probably be making these decisions,” Stiles started to fidget. His Adderall hadn’t taken full affect.

                “Okay, okay,” Stiles refilled his glass and took a big bite of his pancakes. “Should we head down there?” Stiles licked his plate and set it in the sink, along with his glass.

                “Sure, let’s see how everyone survived,” She said. Grandma Stilinski was definitely the person Stiles got his humor from. Stiles grabbed his duffle bag and walked out to the barn, where he started the Ranger and drove it up to the house. Grandma Stilinski got in and they drove down to the campsite. Once they got there, Stiles put it in park and killed the engine. He threw his stuff in the tent and went to join everyone by the campfire next to Scott. Scott looked at him and then grabbed him and hugged him.

                “Are you okay?”

                “Well, I have shitty news to tell, do you want to know now or later?”

                “Well, now! Duh,”

                “Well, I guess, when I was diagnosed, I was only given two months. That still stands until the results from my next PET scan, and so far, it’s been only three,”

                “That’s….that’s….” Scott didn’t know how to answer. “How is that?”

                “Well, basically, they expect me to bite it at any minute,” Scott sat quietly before grabbing Stiles for another hug. “You know the rule Scott,”

                “I know,”

                “I love you man,” Scott grabbed Stiles a little harder, sniffling into his shoulder. “It’s not fair,”  
                “I know, a lot of things aren’t fair, but everything will be okay,” Scott wiped the tears from his face. “And Derek doesn’t even know, and I don’t expect him to know until we get back, you hear? That goes for anyone else,”  
                “Okay,” Scott straightened his back in the chair as John came by with a couple of paddles.

                “Everyone ready to go?”

                “Yup,” Scott and Stiles said in a chorus.

                “I gave you two the kayak,” Stiles smiled. He liked the kayak the best. It was a two person one that glided nicely and was the only canoe or kayak with a cup holder for his soda. They walked near the river and shoved the kayak in, back paddling to wait for everyone else. John, Jeremy, and Grandma Stilinski were in the nicer Plexiglas canoe while Andrew, Janice, and Genny (Their annoying little 10 year old girl who was spoiled rotten) rode inside the other one. Once everyone was settled, they started on the river. They brought a waterproof radio with them so they could listen to some music. It was set on a country station where they played Luke Bryan’s [That’s My Kind of Night](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=crCqWK3SmRo). Scott and Stiles slowly paddled down the river at a good pace until they decided to anchor off at one of the sandbanks. They sat down and grabbed their lunches out of the dry bag and coolers and started munching away. Jeremy found a seat next to Stiles. Stiles didn’t look at him, and refused to talk to him. He finished his sandwich and tossed the bag into the empty cooler and then sat back down. Scott craned his neck around and ran into the woods after whatever was making that noise.

                “Where is he going?”

                “He said he needed to use the bathroom,” Stiles sighed and cracked open another soda.

                “About last night, I’m sorry. I was insensitive. I just, I’ve never fit into this family very well. My dad left and now we have Andrew, and I’m still getting used to everything. That’s not even an excuse for what I said,”

                “You know what? It’s okay. I decided I wasn’t going to have a problem with anyone anymore. It’s not worth it, and life is too damn short to be worrying about what people think of me, because the only opinion that matters is Derek’s and he loves me.” Stiles kicked his feet against the water, disturbing a small school of minnows.

                “You know I have a lot of respect for you, right? Not a lot of people could be as strong as you about finding out their possible demise,”

                “Well, you haven’t seen me in my awful moments. I didn’t handle it very well in the beginning, I’m going to be honest, and actually, not a lot of people know. I haven’t told them. It’s not all about me, and I’m not going to make it like that. It’s just a little cancer. Literally, this is the least dramatic thing to happen to me in the past six months,” Stiles sighed again. “I lost many of my friends, I was diagnosed with dementia, and I was practically out of my mind. I am surprised I lasted this long,”

                “I didn’t realize-“

                “Yeah, not a lot of people do, it’s okay, I’m not here to throw a pity party for myself. That’s ignorant,” Stiles said. He was starting to feel sick he excused himself to empty his stomach in the woods and came back. He rubbed his head and he started to feel a little bit weak. He did his best to ignore it, but the pit of his stomach didn’t feel right. I mean, it never felt right, and he throws up a lot, so he’s used to it, but it’s still not an enjoyable occasion.

                “Are you okay?” Scott asked, coming back from the woods.

                “I’m fine,” Scott didn’t press, and they loaded the canoe back and started back down the river. They were about halfway there, and everything was going great. No one dumped yet, and everyone was genuinely getting along.

                “What campfire songs are you going to sing tonight?” Scott asked, dipping the paddle into the water.

                “Well, of course we’re going to sing the [Campfire Song song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UX6ZQddHGe0), and also [Springsteen](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l2gGXlW6wSY), possibly [American Honey](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Tzzr7RbzUTs), [Cruise](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8PvebsWcpto)…”  
                “What, no hardcore songs? Or something other than country?”

                “Scott, campfire songs. Campfire songs. Not fucking Wu Tang Clan or Beastie Boys, sorry. Though I love Wu Tang and Beastie Boys, we need to follow the guidelines, which by the way, I need to play [Ring of Fire](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=It7107ELQvY),”

                “Okay, I will deal with Johnny Cash,”

                “Well, as long as the alpha is happy,”

                “Alpha is happy,”

                “Good, happy puppies equals happy Stiles,” Stiles turned out of the canoe and got sick. He then popped his head up, paddled a little more, and then took some clean water and washed his face off.

                “Oh honey,” Grandma Stilinski said from the other canoe. “Are you okay?”

                “I’m fine,” Stiles said, slightly hostile. He closed his eyes for a second. He was in the back of the kayak and didn’t really need to steer, considering right now it was a straight shot. They were nearing the bridge that they would dock under and go back to the campsite. He went back to paddling slightly faster to get there faster, making him and Scott the first to dock. They quickly hopped out of the kayak, crawling up the muddy bank under the bridge, Stiles getting his knees covered in black soot. He tied a rope to the end of the kayak and handed the other end to Scott to pull up. Stiles just didn’t have the energy to. Once they got to the truck, they got in the cooler in the bed and he poured it over his knees and hands to get all of the mud off of him. When they got back to the house, he was going to take a shower. The sky looked pretty dark, even though it was only about 2:00 pm, and that meant it was going to rain soon. He helped Scott put the kayak in the back and he sat on the tailgate while the others dragged their boats up the incline of the hill. Thank god John and Andrew had dropped the truck off earlier that morning so they wouldn’t have to wait for them to walk all the way back to the house to get it like last year (great planning). The temperature was starting to slightly drop, and the cold water that dripped from Stiles’ clothes made him shiver. He pulled the hem of his shirt up and wrung it as dry as it would get. Then, everyone started to pack into the truck. Stiles and Scott were smashed in the back next to Jeremy and Janice, while Genny sat on Janice’s lap. Grandma Stilinski sat in the passenger while John drove, Melissa sat in the middle of the front seats and Andrew sat in the bed to make sure the canoes (That were sloppily stacked on top of each other in the back) wouldn’t fall out. They drove 15 miles back to the Stilinski farm, where it was starting to drizzle. Stiles immediately went inside the house and took a shower. The warm water made him feel better. He got all of the mud out of his hair where he had accidentally nose-dived into the ground, and then got out of the shower, burying his face in the soft terry cloth of his towel. His hair was soft from the hard water that his grandma had, and he always liked that. He shook his head and looked at himself in the mirror.

                “Damn,” He said, brushing his cheek that was covered in bruises from the fight last night. He heard a clap of thunder from outside and watched as rain poured down. He was then thankful that all of his stuff was still inside. He walked out of the bathroom and went back up to the guest room to change into clean clothes. He watched through the window at Andrew and John tearing down camp, which meant everyone was going to stay in the house that night. That was fine. They could pull the doors on the enclosed part of the patio and still have their campfire, and it’s not like anyone had cell service or reliable internet up here anyway, so it was easy to keep from using electronics, and also when it rained, the satellite always went out, so the only thing that you could watch is the local news off of the “bunny ears”. Scott came up to the room and dumped his stuff in the opposite corner of Stiles’. It was always known that Scott and Stiles would always share a room.

                “When do you plan to tell Derek?”

                “I guess when I tell everyone else…?”  
                “Will he get mad at that?”

                “No…no. I don’t think so. I wouldn’t’ve even told you, but you knew something was wrong, and you were also kind of in the middle of that conversation, so I didn’t really get a choice not to tell you,”

                “You should probably call him,”

                “Scott, I have no fucking service up here. No one does!”  
                “I didn’t mean on your cellphone, I meant on the home phone,”  
                “That’s actually not a bad idea,” Stiles thought it through. “Yeah, but please unplug all of the phones in the house,”

                “Why?”

                “I don’t want people listening in on my conversations,” Stiles immediately ran to the hallway and grabbed the cordless phone. He stuck it deep in his pocket and went to the rest of the house unplugging the phones so no one else would try to party line them. Once they were finished, they both went up to the room and Stiles dialed Derek’s number. “It’s ringing,” He whispered to Scott, who rolled his eyes. He could obviously hear it ring.

                “Hello?”

                “Derek?”

                “Stiles! You said you were going to stay in contact with me this weekend asshole,”

                “I don’t have service,”  
                “That explains it, anyway, how is camping so far?”

                “Awful. I nearly killed Jeremy, it’s now pouring down rain, and I’ve been sick to my stomach most of it,”  
                “Sweetie,”

                “I’m fine, but that’s not why I’m calling actually, I found out some news,”

                “Good news?”  
                “Well,”

                “Stiles, just tell me,”

                “Well, the secret that my dad had been keeping from me finally came out…” Stiles paused for a second. “I guess when I was diagnosed, they only gave me two months,”

                “It’s been over two months, almost three!”  
                “I know that, but at the same time, I guess it’s that bad. My grandma made the point that I might bite it at any minute,”

                “Oh,” Derek didn’t respond for a while. “I still love you,”

                “I know you do,”

                “We’ll do something, when’s your PET scan? Tuesday?”

                “Yeah,”

                “We’ll figure something out after we get the results, okay?

                “Okay, and I’m sorry to drop all of this on you right now, I know that’s not fair to you,”

                “It’s not like you could have controlled it, okay? It’s okay, I appreciate you telling me, do you want me to tell everyone else?”

                “Not yet. Let’s see what happens Tuesday before we make any rash decisions,”

                “Is telling people really a ‘rash’ decision?”

                “Yes! Okay, I want no one to know. No one. At all.”

                “Well, you’re going to hate Danny then,”

                “What did Danny do?”

                “He’s planning something is all I know. I don’t know what yet, but be prepared when you go to school Tuesday,”

                “I am going to kill him,”  
                “I know, but he really wants to do this, okay? You know he cares a lot about you and this pack,”

                “I know. Well, I have to go,”

                “I love you,”

                “I love you more,”

                “I love you most,”  
                “Always?”

                “Always.”  
                “Okay?”

                “Okay,” Stiles hung the phone up and laughed at how they had practically summed up The Fault in Our Stars toward the end of their conversation.

                “Do you have anything to do with what Danny is planning?” Stiles asked. Scott tried really hard to not make a look when Stiles said that. “So this is your fault also?”

                “He just wanted to know what your favorite colors were. I think he’s making bracelets, or getting bracelets made, or something else. He’s doing something is all I know, the deviant bastard didn’t let me in on anything either,”

                “Dear lord,” Stiles shook his head and brushed through his slightly damp hair. “Do you know what would make me feel better?”

                “What?”

                “Forgetting this shit until Tuesday, going downstairs, and joining everyone for campfire songs,”  
                “Okay,” they ran down the stairs, Stiles grabbing his guitar out of the hard case in the living room and grabbing his new lucky pick. He sat down in one of the lawn chairs on the enclosed patio, a fire already roaring in the fire pit.

                “What are you going to sing for us this year?” Grandma Stilinski asked, crossing her legs.

                “How about Ring of Fire by Johnny Cash,” Stiles started strumming the chords and John started.

                “Love is a burning thing, and it makes a fiery ring, bond by wild desire, I fell into a ring of fire. I fell into a burning ring of fire, I went down, down, down, and the flames went higher. And it burns, burns, burns, the ring of fire, the ring of fire,” The second verse was started by Andrew and everyone slowly started in, including Stiles. He always liked that song. Once it was finished, Genny practically hopped out of her seat.

                “Stiles! Stiles! Do the campfire song song!” He laughed and did the chords.

                “Let’s gather ‘round the campfire and sing a campfire song. A C-A-M-P-F-I-R-E S-O-N-G                song, and if you think that you can sing it faster than you’re wrong, but it will help if you just sing along,” And then there was a competition between everyone about who could sing it the fastest. Scott ended up winning, and Genny blew a raspberry at the end to express her discontent. Stiles accidentally flung his pick across the circle and Janice picked it up. She read it and looked at it awkwardly.

                “Where did you get this?”

                “I got it at the music store back in Beacon Hills,” She handed it back to him and he strummed the last song, deciding on Wagon Wheel. He was the only one who knew it. He slid his fingers down the fret board as he sang. When he was done, everyone clapped and he set the guitar on the ground, putting the pick between the strings as Grandma Stilinski passed around bowls of potato soup. It was warm against his tongue. Stiles added a little bit of cheese in his and slowly sipped at it from the spoon as Andrew started talking about how Genny had been drawn in the “lottery” for the local magnet school that was ranked in the top fifty of the nation. Scott played a game (that didn’t require internet) on his phone, occasionally sighing in frustration at losing. Stiles finished his soup and put the bowl in the kitchen. He put his guitar away and went to bed early. He crawled underneath the covers and fell asleep.

                                ~~~*~~~

                The car ride back felt like it would never end. Stiles woke up not feeling good and all he wanted to do was go back to bed, in his own bed. He also wanted to lay next to Derek. He kept telling himself that all he needed to do was make it until Tuesday. He walked in the house with his dad and dropped his stuff in the living room.

                “Are you feeling okay?” John asked, dropping his bag next to Stiles’.

                “No,” Stiles said blandly, rubbing his head. “I feel like shit,” John immediately came over and put the back of his hand on Stiles’ forehead.

                “You’re burning up,” He put Stiles on the couch and threw a blanket over him. He came back with a thermometer and stuck it in Stiles’ mouth. They waited until it beeped before John grabbed it out of his mouth and looked at it. 102.5. “Jesus, I’m calling Melissa,”

                “Dad,” Stiles whined, “I’m fine. It’s just a fever,”

                “Fevers are dangerous for cancer patients,” He pulled his phone out and dialed her number.

                “Hey Melissa, do you mind coming over? Stiles has a fever,” There was a pause. “That would be great, I’m sorry to bother you. Okay, thank you, see you soon,” He hung the phone up and sat next to Stiles on the couch, rustling his hair.

                “Dad, I’m fine. Can’t this wait until tomorrow before we worry about anything?”  
                “I don’t want to risk it, you never know,” Stiles sighed. He rolled over and closed his eyes, waiting for Melissa to come. He really didn’t feel good, but he didn’t know what didn’t feel good. He just felt like crap altogether. His stomach was a bit unsettled, but it wasn’t as bad as it had been, and it was tolerable. Eventually, Melissa came in, with Scott following behind. She took his temperature again, and it remained unchanged.

                “His fever is at a dangerous rate. They said that if his temperature was ever over 100 to take him to the hospital, and that definitely needs to happen. Let’s get him up and in the car,” Scott picked Stiles up and put him in the passenger seat of the cruiser. Stiles groaned as Scott buckled him in.

                “Do….to….Derek?” Is all Stiles heard from Scott.

                “What?”

                “Do you want me to call Derek, do you want him to come?” Stiles nodded his head. Scott shut the door and Stiles leaned his head against the window as they drove to the hospital. They got out of the car and sat in the emergency waiting room. Stiles had his head on Melissa’s lap as John vigorously filled out paperwork. They waited for several minutes, to the point where Stiles thought that he was going to die. He was nearly crying now. His whole head pounded and felt like it was going to burst like a water balloon and he wanted to scream. They finally called his name and he went back into one of the rooms. He sat quietly as the doctor yet again checked is temperature. It rose to 102.7. They took his arm and stuck a syringe into it and took a blood sample. They then decided to put him in for an MRI and PET scans. Stiles had a bracelet around his wrist and was changed into a hospital gown. They got him a gurney and got him set up in it as they waited for the suites to open up. Stiles was getting tired and laid his head back. His dad grabbed his hand and patted his shoulder.

                “Do you want to sleep?” Stiles nodded his head. John adjusted Stiles’ pillow and Stiles started to settle in. He wished Derek was there. He wanted Derek to play with is hair, to brush his hand against his cheek, to shower him with kisses, and he especially wanted him to snuggle with him. He wanted his affection, he needed him.

                “Is Derek here?” Stiles said quietly.

                “Not yet, Scott is still trying to get ahold of him. Don’t stress about it, go ahead and take a nap,” Stiles turned his head and then closed his eyes.

                He opened his eyes to see that he was surrounded by the white walls of a hospital room. He turned his head and looked out the window and looked outside. The sky was starting to darken. He sighed and looked at himself. He had an IV in his hand and a PICC line in his arm, which meant he would be staying here a little while. The room was empty and quiet, except for the slow beep of the machine next to him. He sighed and partially closed his eyes, trying to drift back to sleep. His dad came running in, and he must have thought that he was still asleep, because he didn’t say anything. He just grabbed a chair and scooted it close to Stiles’ bed, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tight. Stiles turned towards hid dad.

                “Dad?” He said, his voice shallow and small. John looked tired. “Is everything okay?” A tear dropped down John’s cheek as he sniffled, nearly speechless.

                “No, no Stiles, it’s not,” Stiles brought his arm up and wiped the tears from his face. “They got the results from your MRI and PET scans, and they found a lot more spots of cancer around the lining of your chest. Stiles, it’s everywhere. They’re going to start some more aggressive chemo in the morning to try to get the spots, and shrink the main tumor until it’s operable, but it doesn’t look good,” Stiles nodded. He kind of expected so. “Once the chemo is up and they get you back on your feet, then you will just have to start going back to the chemo clinic,” Stiles kind of shuttered at the thought of that.

                “Is Derek here?” Stiles asked, his voice a little choked.

                “He’s in the waiting room now, would you like him to come?” Stiles nodded. He sat up a little bit and put his arms on his shoulders, something he did when he was having mixed emotions. He traced his tattoo with this thumb and looked at where the PICC line was. It was around his bicep, a bandage around his arm to cover the tube. He hated being here. He hated being sick. All he wanted to do was go back to being a normal kid. Derek slowly walked in the room behind John and sat next to Stiles in the hospital bed.

                “Hey there sleepyhead,” Derek cooed, taking the back of his hand and brushing it down Stiles’ cheek. “I love you,” He pecked a kiss on his forehead. “Do you want anything?”

                “Ice,” Derek quickly left the room. “Did my phone beep at all?” Stiles asked, smiling. John handed him the phone and Stiles saw that he had some Facebook notifications. He saw that he was tagged in one of Danny’s posts. It was about Danny getting bracelets and t-shirts made to support Stiles. It had already gotten about 200 likes and a lot of people had shared it. He closed Facebook out and laid back down sighing.

                “Something wrong?”

                “Danny, he’s making a fundraiser, with t-shirts and bracelets, and stuff. I told him that I was fine, but he doesn’t take no for an answer,”

                “When is he selling the stuff? Tomorrow?”

                “Yeah, during lunch I think,”

                “Okay,” John said. Stiles knew he was planning something.

                “If you go there, will you buy me a bracelet? They’re green and blue and say Alpha of the Pack and have my name on them,” Stiles was still kicking himself that Danny was actually doing this. After many attempts to tell him to JUST SAY NOTHING. He obviously doesn’t know what that means. Derek came back with a cup of ice and a spoon. Stiles scooted over and Derek sat down and spoon fed him the ice chips. Stiles gnawed on the ice as Derek spoke.

                “By the way, I want to show you something,” Derek reached in his pocket and pulled out a handful of bracelets that Danny had.

                “Where did you get these?”

                “Danny gave them to me. Just gave them to me. He ordered a shit ton and wanted you to have a couple of them,” Stiles grabbed one of the bracelets and spun it in a circle. They printed the shape of his tattoo on it. He slipped the bracelet on the wrist with the hospital bracelet on it and let it dangle from his thin wrist. Derek put on a couple of them, and John came over and grabbed one.

                “You might give the rest to Melissa to give to Scott,” Derek nodded, spooning more ice into his mouth. “Will you stay with me tonight?” Stiles asked, eating the rest of the ice.

                “Would you like me to?”

                “Yes. Please don’t leave,” Stiles nearly pleaded. Derek gave a warm smile, setting the empty cup down on the counter.

                “I just need to get a few things from home, but I’ll be right back, is that okay?” Stiles gave Derek an “M-hmm” and Derek hesitantly walked out of the room.

                “When will they let me out of here?” Stiles asked, crossing his legs under the blanket that was neatly tucked under him.

                “I don’t know, it depends on when you get well enough to go home. You should probably get some sleep, it’ll help,” Stiles was tired, but he was also tired of sleeping. He had practically slept the whole day away, and he felt so irritated that he couldn’t get up and do something, mostly because he didn’t have the energy. “Melissa should be in here soon to get you settled in for the night,” John said. Stiles turned his head forward and let it fall on his shoulder as he drifted back to sleep.

                Stiles woke up to Melissa tucking him into the bed. He fluttered his eyelids and hummed a little bit.

                “Shh,” She cooed, brushing her fingers though his hair. “It’s okay. You’re dad left, but Derek is still here,” Stiles looked over to the couch to see Derek passed out. Melissa put a pillow under Derek’s head and threw a blanket over him before shutting the door.

                                                ~~~*~~~

                They started treatment the next morning, and they had planned to do it every single day until it was finished, which would be about two and a half weeks. Just hearing that number made Stiles cringe. He wanted to go home, he wanted to cuddle Derek in the loft, he also wanted his mom back, but like most of the things he wanted right now, they were irrational. He nearly vomited when they put the needle in his PICC line. The line went straight to his heart, so the effects would be felt pretty fast once it was done. Derek was already awake and changed into clean clothes, and John couldn’t be there at that time because he had to work. Derek held his hand as they adjusted everything and the medicine started flowing into him.

                “This sucks,” Stiles said, crossing his legs. He was bored out of his mind. He turned on the TV in the room and left it on the CW, where they were running a Supernatural marathon. He contently watched it as Derek sat next to him on the small bed. The thing that they warned about the more aggressive chemo was that even though Stiles’ hair wouldn’t fall out, he would be sick to his stomach and nauseous. That’s what they said about the last chemo, so Stiles took that with a grain of salt. Once the chemo was finished, they took it out from him and Stiles felt relieved. “Well, other than being tired, which I already was, this isn’t that bad, it could be worse,” Stiles continued to watch TV as Derek rubbed his shoulders or played with his hair. Then, Stiles sat up abruptly.

                “Is there something wrong hon?” Stiles answered it by grabbing the plastic bucket they left on the bed tray and got sick into it. He panted and wiped his mouth off. He then continued to vomit. Derek went into panic and ran out of the room to grab one of the nurses. The nurse came in and looked at Stiles’ chart.

                “With this type of chemo, this is completely normal. I’m sorry to say that it’s not going to get any better,” Stiles then sat back on the bed, heavily breathing and closing his eyes. He felt the nurse grab the bucket and empty it before setting it back where it was. Derek grabbed a wet paper towel and cleaned Stiles’ face.

                “There, is that better?” Stiles nodded. He was shaking a little bit and he held his stomach. “Do you hurt?”

                “Yes,” Stiles clicked the button that they had given him for pain medication, which shot morphine into his bloodstream. He released his shoulders and his face relaxed. “That’s better,” He threw up one more time and then stopped. Derek emptied the bucket and returned it back to where it was. He crawled into the bed with Stiles and Stiles nuzzled his head into his chest. “I love you,” He murmured, drifting back off to sleep.

                When Stiles opened his eyes he saw that He was still lying on Derek, who was now asleep, his chest slowly rising and falling. His dad was now there, sitting on the other side of the room on the couch with his glasses on reading the newspaper. Stiles sighed and set his head back on Derek’s chest. He closed his eyes, not intending to sleep any, which he didn’t. He just listened to Derek’s heartbeat, which was beating fast like a dog’s would.

                “Stiles?” John asked, pushing his glasses up onto the top of his head.

                “Yes?”

                “How were you today?”  
                “I threw up for like an hour and how much longer I’m supposed to be here?”

                “Two more weeks to go,” John said optimistically.

                “Ugh,” Stiles groaned. He was slightly hungry, but he was discouraged knowing that if he ate anything that he would just throw it all up. Dinner came anyway. It was just a light chicken broth, some Jell-O, and some sweet tea. He ate it all at a snail’s pace as to not upset his stomach. Derek had gotten up while Stiles was halfway through his Jell-O cup, and he moved out of the bed. He grabbed a plastic chair and sat next to Stiles.

                “Hey there sleepy wolf, how are you?” Stiles asked. Derek sighed and cracked his knuckles.

                “Tired,”

                “Do you want to go home?” Stiles asked, sitting up.

                “Are you sure you don’t want me to stay here with you tonight? Will you be okay?”

                “I’ll be fine, and you haven’t left in like 72 hours. Go ahead, it’s not that big of a deal,” Derek got up and grabbed the bag he brought with his stuff in it.

                “If you need anything, you call, and don’t hesitate to call either, you understand?” Stiles waved him off.

                “I will be fine. Melissa is here, and my dad will be here pretty late. If I really need something, than I will be fine,”

                “Okay,” Derek said hesitantly. He slowly left the room as Stiles finished the rest of his dinner. When he finished, he threw it all back up. His dad was surprised at Stiles’ incapability to keep food down at all. One of the nurses came in to check on Stiles’ vitals and refilled his IV bag.

                “He hasn’t kept a meal down all day,” John said, concerned. “I don’t want him to stay malnourished,” Stiles then threw up another time. The chemo definitely wasn’t settling well with him at all.

                “Mr. Stilinski, it’s completely normal for cancer patients to vomit, you don’t have to worry about it,” The nurse said. She then left and John pulled out his phone.

                “What are you doing?”

                “Calling Melissa, I still don’t think that this is normal,” Stiles sighed and put his head back. He closed his eyes and focused on trying not to vomit again. In a matter of minutes Melissa was up to Stiles’ room. She immediately gave him a hug when she walked in.

                “What’s the issue?”

                “Well, he’s excessively vomiting. Yes, I realize that it is normal for a cancer patient to get sick and vomit on aggressive chemotherapy, but it’s been pretty bad. I’ve only been here a couple of hours and Stiles literally didn’t keep down any of his food,” When John said that, Stiles dry heaved over the bucket, and came up dry. He was now practically crying. His stomach hurt, and he desperately wished that he had something to throw up.

                “Oh, sweetie,” Melissa went over to Stiles and petted his hair back. “Have you been like this all day?” Stiles nodded. Melissa shook her head. “It’s normal to get sick, but not this sick,” Melissa looked at the monitor. “His blood sugar is really low, and we’ll keep up on that,” Melissa made a note of it on Stiles’ chart. Stiles was starting to fade from exhaustion and closed his eyes. Melissa fluffed his pillow up and pulled his blanket up.

                “Thanks Melissa,” Stiles said, adjusting his back.

                “Get some rest hon,”

                                ~~~*~~~  
                The next couple of days to come weren’t any better. They ended up cancelling Stiles’ meals and just giving him nutrition though his IV. He ate ice chips all the time, so when he would get sick he wouldn’t have a completely empty stomach. Scott happened to come on one of Stiles’ not so good days.     

                “Are you okay?” Scott asked as Stiles got sick into his bucket.

                “I’m just really tired, and my stomach hurts really badly. I’m sorry,” Stiles said. He pulled his knees to his chest and sat his head in his knees.

                “Don’t be sorry, it’s not like you can do anything about it,” Scott rubbed Stiles’ shoulder. Scott was the only one there now. John left to go to work and Derek hadn’t come by yet. “How long are you going to be here?”

                “Until I have the energy to actually walk to the restroom and take a piss,” Stiles said. “I hate this. I just want to leave and go home, hell, I even want to go back to school,”

                “I think I would too,” Scott said.

                “And I really want to take a shower, I feel disgusting,” Scott laughed.

                “Gonna be honest, you smell pretty awful,” Scott replied.

                “What? Like sweat, stress, not bathing? Is that what you mean?” Scott’s face turned serious when Stiles said that.

                “No, not exactly, more like, well…”

                “Scott, spit it out,”

                “Like sickness. Like cancer is all over you,”

                “That’s because it is,” Stiles said, a bit hostilely. It’s not like he was trying to be like that, it just came out in his irritability.

                “I know,” Scott said quietly. “You know that Danny already sold out of t-shirts. He had to order twice as many. It’s a big deal at school,”

                “I didn’t want him to do that,”

                “What’s the big deal?”

                “I don’t want people to treat me differently. I didn’t want people to know,” Stiles felt sick to his stomach once he finished that sentence. Not physically, but emotionally. He didn’t want people to know anything, and he wanted to pretend that he was fine, and wanted everyone to continue to live in his little charade, but such things weren’t going to happen. Stiles’ eyelids drooped, his stomach still uneasy. He tried to keep himself awake, but was starting to fail.

                “Stiles, you don’t have to stay awake for me. Get your rest, you need it,”

                Stiles heard the door open and saw John come in with Derek and surprisingly enough, Landon and Jen. Stiles groaned loudly and sat up, looking into Landon’s face. Landon ran over to Stiles and gave him a hug. Stiles hugged him back, trying not to get the wires from his arm tangled around each other.

                “No,” Landon whispered angrily. “This can’t happen, Stiles, no.” Landon said a little louder.

                “I’ll be okay, okay?” A tear was now dripping down Landon’s face. Stiles took his hand and wiped it from his face. “Everything is fine. Don’t cry,” Landon nodded and sniffled a little bit.

                “I just wanted to see it for myself. I wanted to see you, and…” Then, Landon broke out in tears. His hiccupping cries could have been heard from multiple rooms away. He dropped to the floor and continued to cry. Jen came over and brushed his shoulder and he threw her hand away. This went on for several minutes before Jen asked if Landon wanted to leave. He nodded, still crying and they slowly left the room. Stiles didn’t know what to say. The silence was shaking him down. He didn’t know if he could handle this anymore. He wanted to rip the IV out of his hand, the heart monitors from his chest, and the PICC line from his arm and leave. He wanted to leave everything and not come back. But he couldn’t do that.

                “Well, how was your day?” John asked, just trying to start up a conversation.

                “I feel like I’m going to die,” Stiles put his hands over his face and dragged them down. “It would be nice to eat real food and not just sit here and watch myself vomit up the water I fucking drink. How was your day dad?”

                “Well, there was another car pileup and we had to investigate it. Would have rather been here,”

                “You would have rather watched you 18 year old son vomit his guts out at the hospital?”

                “Would have been better than watching people pull bodies out of a burning car,” Stiles shrugged his shoulders. He wasn’t in the mood to argue.

                                ~~~*~~~

                Stiles’ sickness didn’t slow up at all. It became a normal occurrence now, just like him sleeping all the time and him not having the energy for anything. Stiles also lost a lot of weight. A dangerous amount of weight. From just being there a week and a half, he dropped 15 lbs. It got to the point where his cancer doctor debated inserting a G-Tube because he was so malnourished, but they decided against it and were just going to continue with what they were doing. His chemo was almost up, but they decided to keep him a couple more days after it was over to try to get him back on his feet as much as possible. On the last day he was in the hospital, they took a PET scan and an ultrasound to check the state of his cancer and were going to review the results the next week. He still wasn’t as well as he could have been, but he could keep food down, even though he barely had the energy to walk inside the house. He camped out on the couch for a while and slept the day away for as long as he could while John did work in his office. Derek ended up coming over and carried Stiles up to his room so he could sleep. Then when he got back up, he was greeted to Derek in his bed napping with him.

                “Der,” Stiles wakes up Derek. He turns over and throws his arm around Stiles.

                “Yes’m,”

                “I think I need to take a shower,” Stiles got up and started to undress, heading towards the bathroom in his room.

                “Do you want me to come with you?”

                “I think I’ll be okay, just, if I fall or something, you know,” Stiles shut the door and then turned the water on. He turned it up really hot and stepped into the shower, scrubbing himself clean until he didn’t feel like he had sat in the hospital for nearly a month. He washed his hair and then got out, drying himself off. He opened the door and steam poured out from the hot water. He walked to his closet and grabbed a long sleeved t-shirt, the one that Derek had given him in the fall with the thumb holes, and he throws on a pair of boxers and sweatpants. He also puts on a clean pair of socks.

                “Feel better?”

                “Kind of,” Stiles sat back on the bed. Ever since he’s been in the hospital, he’s been shaky. He curled his feet around each other and then got back up and headed downstairs. His dad was in the kitchen getting a beer and pulling out a couple of take-out menus that they kept on the counter.

                “What do you want for dinner?”

                “I don’t care. I’m not picky,” Stiles rubbed his eyes. He poured himself a cup of coffee and started drinking it. He was still shaking, even though he took his ADD medication. “Dad, I have a question,”

                “That is…?”  
                “I didn’t ask when we were at the hospital, but you said the cancer spread, but, like where?” John didn’t answer for a while. He sighed and rubbed his head.

                “Well, they said that the original tumor in your stomach is gone, which is good, but at the same time there are little spots all around the inside of your chest and a fairly large tumor in your diaphragm. The tumor happens to be dangerously close to your lung, and its fast spreading cancer, that’s why they want to get the smaller spots so they can remove the tumor without any more complications,” Stiles nodded. It was weird thinking that something was inside of him, something that was slowly killing him that was all made of parts of him.

                “At least they have a good plan,” Derek sat at the counter of the kitchen and spun from side to side on the stool.

                “Yeah, yeah, I’m not as worried,” Stiles lied. Derek gave him the “You’re a fucking liar” face, and Stiles broke. “Okay, so I am worried. A lot actually, but lying to myself makes it seem more true, you know?” No one responded. “Alright,” He went in the kitchen and cut the hospital bracelets off. One of them was a normal bracelet, the other one was a falling risk one, because he wasn’t strong enough to walk around on his own. He still had his Alpha of the Pack bracelet on, so did John and Derek. He spun it in a circle as Derek and John decided what they were going to have for dinner. They decided on ordering a pizza and some wings, and the place they were ordering from also had churros, and they ate around the couch as they watched the movie Pulp Fiction, which was one of Stiles’ favorite movies. After that movie, they decided to watch Full Metal Jacket, which was also an awesome movie, and then they settled in for the night, and Stiles slept better than he had in nearly a month.

                                ~~~*~~~

                It was decided that if Stiles felt up to it, he was going to go to school the next day so he could get caught up on his classes. His teachers had practically excused him from all of his due homework, and just suggested that he read on the chapters that he missed, which he did while he was in the hospital when he felt up to it. He decided that he was going to go to school that day, and would go home if he wasn’t feeling up to the rest of the day. He picked up Scott like he usually did and they got to school early. He pulled into his parking spot and sat there for a minute.

                “Whatcha thinking about?” Scott asked, setting his feet on the dash.

                “My dad and I had a discussion yesterday. Just thinking about that. Don’t really wanna talk about it,”

                “Okay, well, do you wanna…?” Scott pointed his head towards outside.

                “Yeah, yeah, let’s go,” Stiles grabbed his backpack from the back and shut the door. He put his keys in his pocket and he walked in. He went to his locker and started digging around. “What day is it today?”

                “It’s a B day,” Scott answered, leaning against the lockers. Stiles grabbed his Econ textbook and shut the locker. He and Scott then proceeded to walk to Econ. Stiles walked in and sat in his seat. Coach was grading papers on his desk.

                “Stilinski, you’re back,” Coach said, looking up from the stack.

                “Yup,”

                “How are you doing?”

                “Fine I guess…” Stiles said awkwardly. He saw that Coach Finstock had a blue and green bracelet around his wrist. “Fuck me,” Stiles said under his breath. Scott laughed.

                “You know Landon and Danny have been pretty upset,” Coach went sorting through his desk. “And the lacrosse team made this,” Coach handed Stiles a card that said Get Well Soon on it and inside had nice messages from all of the lacrosse players.

                “Thanks,” He said. He slipped it in his backpack as kids started to slowly file into the classroom. The rest of the day went by awkwardly, and Stiles didn’t have any issues. Danny saw him in the hall and bear hugged him.

                “I can’t believe you’re back!” He practically yelled.

                “Danny boy, you’re breaking my back,” Stiles said. Danny released.

                “Sorry, it’s been a while. I just, are you okay?”

                “Well, as okay as I could be, I’ll tell you about it later,” He pulled his backpack higher on his back and headed towards his Jeep, where he met Scott who was sitting on the hood of the Jeep texting. Stiles unlocked the doors and Scott got in, throwing his stuff in the back.

                “What are we doing this weekend?” Scott asked, scrolling through his phone.

                “Nothing that I know of, but you might run whatever you want to do by Derek, because he might be planning something,”

                “Okay,” Stiles started to drive home and dropped Scott off at his house. “Thanks,”

                “No problem,” Stiles headed home and parked the Jeep in the driveway. He then walked in the house to see that his dad was home early.

                “How was your day?”  
                “Fine. Thank god it’s Friday, right?” John nodded. “Oh, and Derek has something planned for you tonight. You should probably dress up nice,” Stiles gave him a weird look.

                “Okay… how nice?”  
                “A mix between casual and formal. Nice shirt, khakis, something like that. Wear that one gray vest over a white button up shirt or something,” Stiles nodded. “And wear your Sperry’s with them, they’d look nice,” Stiles begrudgingly agreed. He went upstairs and got some hair gel to part his hair nicely and to spike his bangs up. He put a little bit of cologne on his neck and one spray on his sleeve. He debated on a bow tie for a while and finally decided to go with it and tied it around his neck. He then dug his Sperry’s from the bottom of his closet and grabbed his wallet and his cellphone. He heard the downstairs door open and heard Derek start to talk to John. He went downstairs to see Derek in a really long V-neck sweater and a nice pair of Dockers. He had nice black dress shoes and his hair was perfect. He smiled as he greeted Stiles at the stairs.

                “You look amazing,”  
                “Thanks, and you’re like whoa,” Stiles said, looking Derek up and down. “Where are ya taking me?”

                “We’re going to Mackenzie’s” Stiles was taken back. Mackenzie’s was the most expensive steak place in the city, and it was really hard to get reservations, which means he would have had to make reservations at least a week in advanced.

                “Jesus Derek, Mackenzie’s?”

                “Yes, you’ll see why,” Stiles then started to get nervous. His hands started to shake a little bit and he started to wipe his hands on his khakis. Once he and Derek got there, their table was already set up for them and a waitress showed them to their table. They sat down and looked at the menus.

                “Derek, this is really expensive, you don’t have to do this,”

                “Stiles, I want to do this, order whatever you would like,” The waitress came back and took drink orders. Stiles got a water, and so did Derek, along with a bottle of his favorite wine, Jacob’s Creek from Australia, which was the only brand of wine that the Hales ever kept in their house. The waitress brought two glasses for the wine (most likely a cancer perk) and Derek poured Stiles a glass and then himself. They ordered their food next. Stiles ordered a filet and Derek ordered rib eye.

                “Are you glad to be home?” Derek asked, sipping at his wine.

                “Yeah! I’ve missed sleeping in my own bed,” Stiles smiled and picked his glass up. “To us?”

                “To us,” They clinked glasses and took a drink. The waitress came out with the food and they cut into their food and started to take a bite.

                “This is delicious,” Stiles said, licking his lips. “I’ve only been here once, and that was when my mom was still alive. My dad took us here when he got elected as Sheriff,” Derek took another bite of his food as Stiles cut his up a little more.

                “Well, my family went here pretty often, and I thought you would like it,” Stiles smiled. They both finished their food and then the waitress brought out a chocolate cake desert. They both took a fork and scooped a bite of it. Once they finished it, Stiles took a drink of his water before taking another sip of his wine.

                “This was an amazing night Der, thank you,”

                “It’s not over yet,” Derek said with amusement. “Ever since I saw you, I’ve always had a secret adoration of you,” Derek started. Stiles knew where this was going. “You have been my love, my stars, my moon, no pun intended. And I’ve always wanted to spend the rest of my life with you so…” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a black box and opened it. Inside, was a beautiful engagement ring, a main silver band and laying in the middle of it was a smaller, blue steel band that shined in the chandelier under the table. Stiles was about to cry. “Will you marry me?”

                “Of course I will Derek!” He leaned over the table and gave Derek the biggest hug of his life. He slipped the ring on Stiles’ finger and he looked at it in the light. “It’s gorgeous,”

                “I’m glad you think so, because mine is similar,” Derek pulled the lining out of the box and popped out an identical ring from the box. He slipped it on his finger. “Take it off and look at the inside,” Stiles did and read the inscription inside the ring. It read **a love that lasts forever**. “I was thinking when we have the wedding, whatever we decide to do, that we could get new rings,”

                “No, these are fine. They’re so beautiful. Literally, nothing is even in comparison to this,” Stiles slid the ring up and down his finger. He loved knowing it was there. Derek paid the bill and they headed back to Derek’s place. They walked in and Stiles kicked his shoes off and undid his tie. He then slowly started to walk towards Derek’s room as Derek took off of his sweater and left it on the couch. He also went into his room while Stiles started to strip himself. Stiles took his ring off and set it on the kitchen counter and Derek sat his on the nightstand. They got into the bed and started to strip their clothing until it was just the two of them.

                “It’s been so long,” Derek cooed in Stiles’ ear getting close to him.

                “I know. All I’ve wanted to do for the past month is hit that,” Stiles jumped on top of Derek and then smashed his face on his, their sloppy kisses moving them more towards the middle of the bed. Derek started to bite and nip at Stiles’ neck, and going all the way down his arm. He hit a tender spot on Stiles’ bicep, where the PICC line was, and he winced a little bit. Derek moved back up his arm and started licking at one of the bites. He closed his eyes as he felt Derek get closer and closer to him, slowly easing into him. And then, they were done. Stiles got up and took a shower like he usually did, and borrowed a pair of Derek’s boxers before throwing the khakis and the button up back on. He grabbed his ring from the kitchen counter, slipped on his shoes, and carried the rest of his clothing to the car where Derek drove him home.

                “I love you,”

                “I love you too,” Stiles kissed Derek’s cheek before getting out of the Camaro. He waved as Derek lightly honked and pulled down the street. Stiles went inside the house to see that his dad was still up watching Bonanza reruns on DVD. “Dad, look,” Stiles sat next to his dad and put his hand in front of his face. John stared at the ring in amazement. He then smiled and looked back at his son.

                “Oh Stiles, that’s amazing. I’m so happy for you,” He pulled the ring off of Stiles’ finger and felt it. “Wow, is that silver?”

                “Yeah, it’s an inside joke,”

                “No, I get it, that’s really funny actually,” John handed the ring back to Stiles and he slipped it on his finger. “I knew that he was going to propose tonight. I suggested that he do it pretty soon. Because, well, we don’t really know how things are going to be next week, in a couple of weeks, hell, even a month, and he’s had the rings for a while. How do you think he got your ring size?” Stiles didn’t think about that.

                “I have a husband now dad. It’s just hitting me. I have a husband who loves me, and has still stayed with me through all of this. This is awesome. Everything is almost perfect,” John smiled.

                “If only your mom was here to see this,”

                “It’s pretty likely that she will soon,” Stiles said. They both knew it, but Stiles, also being under the influence a little bit of alcohol, was going to say anything that was on his mind. And that had been on his mind the whole night. He could cross off marry Derek Hale off of his bucket list, and all he had to do was to stay alive for a couple more months to finish the rest of the list. That, was something that had to happen.

                                ~~~*~~~

                 The next couple of days went by fast. Derek was over every single day talking with Stiles over what they were supposed to do about the wedding. They decided that they were going to have it up in Mt. Shasta, because it was beautiful up there, they had a nice vineyard to hold a nice reception, and they could have a country wedding at the Stilinski farm. They could grow all of the flowers for it, have it in the back field. They didn’t know what they wanted the colors to be, but they still had some time to decide that. They were thinking a light blue, because blue was important to both of them. Stiles also asked Derek about prom.

                “Prom?”  
                “Yeah, if I’m able to go, I would really like for you to go with me. It would be me and you, Scott and Kira, Danny and his new boy toy, and Lydia and Jackson. Jackson’s flying in from London, he promised,”

                “You really want to go?”

                “I really want to go,”  
                “Okay. We’ll go,”

                “Yaaa!”

                After that discussion, Stiles seemed distracted thinking about other things. They day he went in to check his PET scans was one of the days that just snuck up on him.

                “Well, we did get the smaller spots like we suspected,” The doctor started, pointing at the scan that was in an x-ray light. “And I can confidently say that the tumor is now operable and that it is now an option. We can continue to do chemotherapy, or we can try radiation, but in my opinion, it would be easier to just remove the tumor. There is less of a chance of it coming back,”

                “Well, what are the risks?” John asked, setting his hands on the doctor’s desks.

                “Well, all surgery has risks. The risks are simple. There’s bleeding, possible complications, trouble breathing, a punctured lung, I mean, you can’t really expect any less. There’s also the possibility to just have complications and die. There are large risks, but it will have a larger payoff in the end,” John stood silently and then looked at Stiles.

                “What do you think?”

                “I-I-I don’t know,” Stiles said. It was a big decision. “I guess do the surgery,”

                “Okay, well, we’ll book an operating room for tomorrow afternoon,” Stiles almost jumped out of his skin.

                “Tomorrow afternoon?”  
                “Yes, it is crucial that we get the tumor as fast as possible,” Stiles held his head in his hands and looked at the floor. It was a lot to take in. “With the procedure, you will be in the ICU for an extended period of time, mostly because considering how large the tumor is, there is more risk for complication. It all depends on how you do getting out of it,” John shook the doctor’s hand, same with Stiles, and they headed home.

                “Tomorrow afternoon,” Stiles said nervously, spinning his ring on his finger at warp speed. He was shaking really fast now. He started to have a panic attack in the car. He started breathing really fast and John stopped the car. He got Stiles out of the front seat and onto the ground.

                “Shh, you’re okay, calm down, everything will be fine,” John reached inside the cruiser and grabbed a bottle of water that was under the floorboards and gave Stiles. “Drink this,” Stiles uncapped the bottle and he chugged the whole thing. He wiped the water off of his face and calmed down. He got back into the car and they made it home. Stiles went straight up to his room and locked the door. He crawled into the back of his closet like he used to do when he was smaller when he used to get really stressed out or had panic attacks without his mom being there. He started to have another panic attack and sat there until it went away. He continued to sit there, cuddled in the dark. He had pulled the door close so it could just be him and his thoughts. The door then swung open and Scott was there, looking down on him.

                “C’mon,” Scott grabbed Stiles’ hand and pulled him out of the closet. Stiles sat on his bed, Scott sitting next to him. “Are you okay?”

                “I don’t know. I’m scared. I mean, I’ve been scared a lot, but this is different. I mean,”

                “I know what you mean,” Stiles put his elbows on his knees, his hands still shaking. Scott looked down at his hands and saw the ring.

                “He finally did it?”

                “Yeah, on Friday. I’ve been so flustered, and I’ve been pretty distracted,”

                “Yeah. I would be too. My mom told me about the, uh, news,” Scott was now looking at the ground. “Tomorrow huh?”

                “Yeah, tomorrow. Really nervous. Really, really nervous,”  
                “You’ll do fine,”

                “I have a question,”

                “Which is…”

                “If something happens, and you’re able to, and I’m about to die, can you, well, give me the bite? I don’t want to leave Derek if I don’t have to,” Scott gave him a hug.

                “I’ll do anything, you’re my brother,” Stiles nodded.

                “Thank you,”

                                ~~~*~~~

                Stiles had to get up a little earlier than usual to get prepped for surgery. They sat in the waiting room, Derek met them there. Scott was going to come after school to make sure everything was okay. Stiles clung close to Derek as they waited. They called his name and he went back. He changed into a hospital gown and then they started putting an IV in his hand and started hooking him up to multiple machines.

                “You’ll do great hon,” Derek said, rubbing his arm. It didn’t make Stiles any less nervous. Stiles pecked a kiss on his cheek and Stiles anxiously waited.

                “You’re going to have to take off all of your jewelry,” One of the nurses said, as she took a blood sample. Stiles sighed and took off his bracelet and his engagement ring. Derek held out his hand and Stiles dropped the two things into his hand and Derek put them in his pocket.

                “How much longer?”

                “A couple of hours,” Derek responded. Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand.

                “I love you,”

                “I love you too. I’ll be right back, I’m going to go get some coffee,” Derek got up and headed back down to the lobby. John moved over a seat and sat next to Stiles.

                “Do you want anything?”

                “I want food, but, you know,” Stiles sighed. Everything was racing through his brain. John patted him on the shoulder.

                “Proud of you, kid,” Stiles didn’t say anything for a while. He didn’t know how to respond. “I called the family, and they’re planning to come up while you’re here,”

                “You didn’t have to do that,”

                “Well, if I didn’t tell Grandma, she would have damn near killed me,” Stiles was in agreement about that. Their heads would be on silver platter if they didn’t. Derek came back with some coffee and took a sip. Stiles stared at it, hoping that maybe he could sneak in a sip. He started creeping his hand closer to the cup, trying to get it from Derek.

                “Not a chance,” Derek said, putting it further away from Stiles and drinking the rest of it.

                “C’mon Der, don’t be a douche. I just wanted a sip,”

                “No food or drink,”

                “It’s been like 6 hours, I’m thirsty, and starving!”  
                “No!”

                “Damn, being responsible and shit. That’s not cool,” Stiles crossed his arms and pouted. Derek rolled his eyes. Then, Scott came in. He went running in and gave Stiles a huge hug.

                “Hey, everything’s going to be fine,” He said, still in hug. “I’ll be there every single day, I’ll even miss school if I have to. I’ll play video games with you, draw pictures with you, walk you down the hall, hell, I’ll even read a book to you if you’d like me to, and you know how much I hate reading, so that’s a pretty big offer,” Stiles laughed.

                “Well, I have some books I want to read, like one of those lycanthropy books,”

                “Dude, fuck no, that is the only thing I’m not going to read,”

                “I’m joking. I’ve been wanting to read the Perks of Being a Wallflower, Looking for Alaska, and the Book Thief,”

                “Dude, the Book Thief is like 500 pages long,”

                “Yes and?”

                “Ugh, fine,” Stiles laughed again. “See, I would do anything you wanted me to do,”

                “Do you wanna go get me a coffee to drink?”

                “You’re not allowed, so no. That is the only thing I can’t do, but as soon as you can eat normal food, I’ll be there with the blackest coffee ever, promise,”  
                “Or a milkshake. That sounds really good right now,” Stiles hummed and licked his lips. “I could really go for a hot fudge milkshake right now,” John shook his head.

                “Of course the only thing you’re worrying about is food,” John noted.

                “Dad, I’m fucking starving, of course that’s the only thing I’m thinking about,” Another nurse came by and took Stiles’ blood pressure and his heart rate before getting a syringe and putting it into the IV and pushing the liquid into it. “What’s that?”

                “It’s part of the anesthetic. It should take its full affect in about thirty minutes,” Stiles almost had a heart attack. He looked towards everyone and started breathing a little faster.

                “Hey, Stiles, calm down, you’re fine, okay baby? Calm down,” Stiles was about to start into another panic attack. Derek grabbed Stiles’ face and looked at him. Then, he kissed him on the lips. When they released, Derek held Stiles’ head in his hands. “You are a strong young man, and you can do this, okay? You have nothing to be worried about. I love you, and so does Scott, and your dad, and everyone. We love you, and we know that you’ll be perfectly fine, and when you wake up, you’ll see at least two of us, and everything will be fine. Okay?” Stiles threw his arms around Derek’s neck and hugged him as tight as he could.

                “Thank you,”

                “Relax hon, it’ll be a lot easier.” Stiles did. He took deep breaths and sunk into the hospital bed. He set his head back on the pillow and laid his hands on his chest. Then, it’s like a switch that turned on in his head, and thought about all the horrible things that might go wrong. His chest tightened and he tried to calm himself down a little more. His dad was then grabbing his hand, a tear dripping down his face. Stiles turned and wiped the tear off of his father’s face.

                “Dad?”

                “I’m sorry Stiles, I’m sorry, it’s just-.”

                “I know dad, it’s fine, everything will be fine,”  
                “Okay,” Scott went over to John and gave him a hug. When it came to hugging, Scott did a lot of it. He was good at expressing his emotions.

                “I love you dad,”

                “I love you too son,” There were a group of nurses there to take Stiles. They wheeled him down the hallway, the doors hitting the bed as they went through them. His nerves started to rise as they entered the operating room. They moved Stiles onto the cold metal table and stripped the gown off of his torso. They took a marker and marked where they were going to do the incision and they put a mask over his face. He watched as everything started to fade away into the dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There was a lot of positive feedback from the last chapter. I thank you dearly for that :) My tumblr, if anyone was wondering, is [here](http://dances-with-wolvess.tumblr.com/)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Complications. Major Complications.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I wrote this chapter in Derek's perspective. It's just this chapter. You'll understand why once the chapter starts. And also you should probably prepare yourself. Stilinski family drama in 3...2...1...

Derek’s P.O.V.

                Derek sat in the waiting room between Scott and John.  John was nervously tapping his foot on the floor and Scott was scrolling through twitter feed on his phone. Both of them were filled with the smell of stress. And Derek was too. He was stressed out more than anyone could possibly be. His fiancé was in there and he might not make it out. That’s enough to make anyone stressed out. They sat there for hours. It was supposed to be about a three hour procedure, but then three hours turned to four, and four to five. Stiles went back at 4:00, and it was now 10:00. Derek was so stressed that he was sick to his stomach.

                “Stilinski family?” A nurse called. John got up and walked over to her. Scott looked at Derek, who was debating going over there or not. He decided to stay. He didn’t eavesdrop like he usually did, he would rather John tell him when he came back over there. John was talking with the nurse for several minutes, before thanking her and going back to his seat.

                “So?”

                “Well, he just got out of surgery. The tumor was bigger than they thought it was. They got it all, but in the process they punctured his lung. They said that he was going to have issues breathing, that was a given for operating on his diaphragm, but now his lung is only working at half capacity. In the process, he lost some blood, and that he, he almost died,” John was starting to become a mess. “Right now he’s not breathing on his own, so he’s on a respirator. He’s in recovery now and they are thinking of putting him into a medically induced coma because he’s going to be in a large amount of pain. Right now he’s in recovery. They don’t know a time period of how long he will be there, but once he’s more stable, then they’re going to put him in the ICU. They will let us know when he gets up to his room, but visiting hours at the ICU are over, so we’re not going to be able to see him until tomorrow,” Derek just gawked at John for a while.

                “So, what are we going to do?”

                “Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m going to go home and attempt to get some sleep and be back tomorrow. I’m going to take another day off. Thank god for all the overtime I saved up for something like this,” John left the waiting room, leaving Derek and Scott.

                “Will you take me home?” Scott said quietly. “I didn’t want to bother John,”

                “Yeah, yeah, sure, let’s go,” They got in the elevator and rode it down. That’s when Derek broke. He dropped to the floor and cried. Scott hadn’t seen him cry, and he started crying too. They were both a mess. The elevator beeped and they walked into the main lobby. They both got themselves back together as much as they could and got in the car. Derek started to drive to Scott’s house. Scott was still crying a little bit.

                “It’s not fair!” Scott screamed.

                “Don’t you think I fucking know that Scott?! None of this is fair!” Derek yelled. He stopped at a stop light and pushed his face into the steering wheel. “None of this is fucking fair. He’s my fucking fiancé and he’s fucking withering away there,” The light turned green and Derek turned on Scott’s street. “I’m sorry. That was hostile. Just, I’m sorry,”

                “Derek, you have nothing to be sorry for. This wasn’t your fault. It’s actually good you’re getting some emotions out, because you never do that enough,” Derek pulled up to Scott’s house and unlocked the doors.

                “Have a good night. Do you want me to pick you up in the morning?”  
                “Yeah. I’m not going to school tomorrow. I don’t think my mom will make me, and this is more important,” Derek nodded. “Thanks by the way,”

                “No problem,” Derek waited until Scott got safely in the house and then drove to his place. He yanked the door open and then slammed it as hard as he could. He took one of the plates that was still on the counter and threw it against the wall. It shattered into a whole bunch of little pieces. He then went in the bathroom and tried to wash all of his irritation away with his shower. When he was done, he crawled up on Stiles’ side of the bed. It smelled like him. Derek picked his jeans up off of the floor and grabbed Stiles’ bracelet and ring out of it. He set the ring on the nightstand, and put the bracelet around his wrist and then went to sleep.

                                ~~~*~~~

                Derek arrived at Scott’s house around 7am. Scott was already sitting on the porch, waiting for Derek to come. He got in the passenger seat and they drove to the hospital. They saw the cruiser parked outside, which meant that John was already here.

                “John texted me this morning. He said Stiles is in room 485,” They walked in the doors and went to the elevator. They rode it up to the 4th floor and went around a maze of hallways until finding the ICU. The waiting room didn’t have very many people in it. Just a few people scattered around. They called in and waited to get confirmation to come in. The doors buzzed and slowly opened. Scott and Derek then started walking around the ICU to find 485. Once they did, they saw that the door was half closed. Derek knocked on the door before entering. He opened the door to see Stiles, in a room full of machines. He had a tube down his throat from the respirator and Derek could hear the whooshing noise that it made. John was in the corner of the room, His hands folded, and elbows on his knees, with his head down. He looked up to see Scott and Derek as they filed in. Stiles looked nearly dead. Derek held Stiles’ hand, which was laying limp at his side and slipped his ring around his finger. He kissed his hand and then rubbed his thumb around the back of his hand.

                “You’re so beautiful,” Derek said, brushing his face with his fingertips. “And I love you so much,” Stiles still stayed motionless. There was a consistent beep from one of the machines. Derek stayed there the rest of the day with John and Scott. They watched some TV, but all of Derek’s focus was on Stiles. When visiting hours for the ICU were over, they all left. It was hard for Derek to leave. He pulled the pain from him a couple of times that day, but Stiles didn’t change. Derek just wanted him to wake up. He wanted to see his beautiful big doe eyes, listen to his sarcastic comments, and to watch his long skinny fingers fiddle with the ring he was constantly playing with. But he didn’t know when that would happen.

                                ~~~*~~~

                The next day, Derek brought in flowers to put in Stiles’ room. He put them in the window as he watched Stiles’ chest rise and fall. He sat in one of the chairs and held Stiles’ hand. John came running in the door, looking flustered.

                “Is he awake?” Derek shook his head. John shook his head. “I just wanted to drop by before I went to work. I was hoping that he would be better,” He looked at the clock and sighed. “I still have 10 minutes before I have to leave for work. How long have you been here?”

                “Only a couple of minutes,”

                “Well, I think Andrew and Janice will be coming up later from San Fran. I caution you, if their kids come, they can be a handful, and I don’t think I’ll be able to come back until later tonight, but if they are a huge disturbance, please, don’t hesitate to ask them to leave,” He was surprised that John was so straightforward with him.

                “Are you sure?”  
                “Well, you are his fiancé, and if the vibes in the room are stressful, I would rather them not be in the room so Stiles can heal,” Derek nodded and John sat down. He sighed again and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Will you tell me if he does any better?”

                “Of course,” Derek patted John’s shoulder and John looked up.

                “Thank you,” Derek nodded. John got up and stretched. “Damn. I’m going to leave a little early so I can get some coffee. I’m going to need it today,”

                “There’s a Caribou Coffee downstairs I think,”

                “That sounds pretty good. I might get some espresso,” He got up and left the room. Derek exhaled a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He looked in the room to see that Scott had left the books that Stiles wanted to read on the shelves. He picked up Looking for Alaska and started to read it. He read about forty pages before bending the page to bookmark where he was and grabbed Stiles’ hand. He allowed himself to take the pain from Stiles. There was a lot, but Derek could manage. Stiles remained unchanged. Stiles sighed and sat there, petting his hand. He heard a knock on the door to see a man who looked like John, who he remembered as Andrew and his son Jeremy walk in and they gasped.

                “Oh my god,” Andrew said, staring at Stiles. “What happened?”

                “There were some complications with his surgery. His lung was punctured, and he had some really bad bleeding, and they put him into a medically induced coma until he could breathe on his own. Jeremy looked like a sheet. He looked so nervous.

                “Is, is he going to get any better?” Jeremy asked, staring at Stiles.

                “He should. So far, he hasn’t improved,” Derek shook his head looked back at Stiles. He then backed up so that Andrew and Jeremy could take a good look at him. Andrew stood next to Stiles and squeezed his hand.

                “Hey buddy,” Andrew said softly. “We love you, you’re so strong. We’re proud of you,” Derek was touched about how sweet it was. Andrew let go of his hand and they sat down. “So, Derek, right?”

                “Yes sir,”  
                “How long have you and Stiles been dating?”

                “About a year and three months,” Andrew nodded.

                “What’s that bracelet?” Andrew pointed to Derek’s wrist.

                “Oh, one of Stiles’ friends made a whole bunch of shirts and bracelets to support him,” Derek was getting a little nervous. He wished Stiles was awake to take the awkwardness out of the conversation. Derek started playing with his fingers and his ring went spinning off towards the other side of the room. “Dammit,” He said under his breath. He got on his hands and knees and started looking around for the ring.

                “Whatcha looking for?” Jeremy asked.

                “Engagement ring,” Derek said, crawling under one of the tables. He found it and put it back on his finger.

                “Engagement ring?”

                “Didn’t John tell you? I proposed last week,”

                “But, I mean, he’s still in high school,” Jeremy said, confused.  
                “Yes, and…? He’s eighteen and I cleared it with John. I planned to do it earlier, but, then there was the issue when Stiles was in the hospital for a while, and that didn’t go very well,”  
                “John was telling me about that. He didn’t want us to come up because he said it wasn’t that big of a deal,”

                “Well, he didn’t want a lot of people visiting him. They were giving him some really intense chemo, and he was throwing up everything but his memories. He lost a lot of weight too,” Derek looked over at Stiles. You could definitely tell he lost weight. You could see his jawline distinctively, and his arms were much skinnier than they were, mostly because since he hadn’t been doing lacrosse, he lost his muscular build. The machines continued to beep and the respirator made a sort of wheezing sound. Derek hated that sound. He hated being here, knowing that Stiles was slowly dwindling away.

                “I think we’re going to go, Janice and Genny are in the waiting room, Genny’s not old enough to come in, and it’s probably for the better,”

                “Okay, well, have a nice day, it was nice seeing you again, I’m sorry on such circumstances,” Derek said.

                “Thank you,” Once they left, Derek pulled out his laptop and started on his story. He couldn’t even focus on it though, the only thing he could think about was Stiles. He then opened the file he kept on his computer where he had love letters he had written ever since the first time that Stiles had gone to the hospital and Stiles got diagnosed. He scrolled to the bottom and started a new page. He typed the date and started the letter.

                _Stiles,_

_I’m sitting here, watching you in your hospital room. You look so peaceful, so beautiful, and I wish that I didn’t know how much pain you’re in. I’ve been here all day, quietly praying to myself that you might open those big brown eyes of yours and look at me with that goofy smile. I want to hear your voice as you sing another song, read another story, or the light that brightens your eyes when you talk about music, or your mom. I want to watch your hands dance across the keys of your piano as you finger through the chords of my favorite song, or to watch as you slowly strum every string of your guitar until it’s in tune. It’s only been two days since I watched you get wheeled back, wheeled away from me. I combed my fingers through your hair and eased your nerves, telling you that everything would be okay. I wish that we could have been so lucky. Waiting in that waiting room for 6 hours, watching the seconds tick by, four hours later than when you were supposed to be finished, and watching the tears come down your dad’s face as they told him the news. I wanted to run and find you immediately, I wanted to hold you in my arms and kiss you and lay next to you, to hear you breathe on your own, to feel your heart beat against my back as you put your arms around my shoulders. Now that seems like a faded memory._

_I wish things were back to what they used to be, before you got diagnosed, before your life became blackjack at a casino, just gambling between life and death. I wish that you were still laughing, spreading your sarcasm for the world to enjoy, and acting like a little kid. I never knew that I would depend so much on song lyrics to express how I feel._

_I’ll see you in the future when we’re older._

_And we are full of stories to be told._

_Cross my heart and hope to die,_

_I’ll see you with your[laughter lines](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8ccFSXgdv5U)._

_As I’m writing this, I am literally having to wipe the tears from my face. I want you to wake up, baby. You’re my stars, you’re my moon, and you’re my whole life. I’m spinning the ring around my finger. I can hear breathing, but it’s not yours. It breaks my heart every day that I come and see that you’ve remained unchanged. I heard crying down the hall, and all I could imagine was, what if that was me? What if those hiccupping wails were from me because you didn’t make it? I couldn’t live with myself if that happened. I want to watch you sign our marriage license, I want to watch you fiddle with the piece of notebook paper you wrote on your vows on at our wedding, feel your soft lips as the pastor says “seal your vows with a kiss”, and I want you to watch our children grow up. You’d be a great father. Jesus, you would be an amazing father, and I am proud to call you my husband._

_With love, Derek Hale_

Derek finished the letter and saved the word document. He then wiped the tears from his face with his sleeve. He took a deep breath and left the room. He went downstairs and grabbed some lunch/dinner. He wasn’t in the mood to eat, but he knew that if he didn’t, Stiles would be disappointed in him. He went across the street to St. Louis Bread Co. (It was really a Panera, but it was originally St. Louis Bread Co before it became a chain) and ordered a coffee, a bacon turkey bravo on white, and potato soup. Once they served him his food, he sat down at a table and picked the tomatoes off of his sandwich. Usually when he would set the tomatoes out of anything, Stiles’ nimble fingers would grab the tomato and he would quickly shove it into his mouth. Derek dunked a piece of French bread he had ripped off of the loaf and dunked it into the soup, slowly eating it. He continued to do so until there was no more bread left, then he started on his soup. He always liked the potato soup here, because it was similar to what his mom used to make when Derek was sick or had a bad day. He spooned out the last of the soup and started on his sandwich, and when he was finished with that, threw his trash away and took the coffee cup with him, drinking the rest as he walked back over to the hospital. He met Scott in the lobby, who was walking towards the elevator.

                “Derek, are you just now getting here?”

                “I’ve been here all day, I just went across the street to grab a bite. He hasn’t changed as far as I know,” The elevator dinged and they stepped out of it, and went back into the ICU unit and back to Stiles’ room. Derek walked in and stared at Stiles. He still remained unchanged. Derek sighed and slumped back down in the chair he was in.

                “It’ll get easier,” Scott tried to say optimistically. “That’s what my mom said,” Derek tried to think that it would get easier, but so far, all it was, was harder. Just in two days, the tightening feeling in his chest increased as he felt his heart being ripped out every morning when he stepped in the room. John came by one last time that night, a little disappointed that Stiles hadn’t changed, and then they all left when visiting hours were over. They saw Melissa before they left.

                “I’ll keep a good eye on him,” She said, patting John’s shoulder. He gave a half smile and kept walking to his car in the parking lot. Derek got into his car and sat with his head on the steering wheel. He was now crying again. He hated when that happened. He then put the key in the ignition and started the car. Someone knocked on the car window. He rolled it down and looked at the stranger.

                “Are you okay?”

                “Yeah, I’m fine, just, just a tough day,”

                “I’m sorry to hear that. I hope you have a good night,”

                “Thank you,” The stranger left and Derek rolled the window up. He needed that. The conversation helped him drive home. He pulled the heavy door open on the apartment and went straight to bed.

                                ~~~*~~~

               

Day three and literally nothing had changed. Derek was starting to get into a routine of just walking in, letting out a long sigh, and then reading a couple of chapters before attempting to work on his book, but he failed at doing so. He ended up getting a chapter done, but it was a short chapter that he would have to revise later, because Derek was more than sure that all it was, was 20 pages of shit. He looked up to see Melissa enter the room to her routine check. She checked Stiles’ lungs, and then confused, checked again. She then put her ear to Stiles’ chest and smiled.

                “He’s starting to breathe on his own,” She said. Derek smiled. “I only estimate at about 10% capacity, but it’s a start. It’s much better,” Derek nodded. She left and Derek had a small silver lining of hope around his aura. He then decided to call Scott, even though he figured he was in class. Whatever, this was important.

                “Derek, what’s wrong?” Scott answered in a panic. There was a lot of background noise coming from Scott’s end.

                “Nothing, Stiles is actually breathing on his own. It’s not by much, but, it’s looking up,”  
                “Oh, thank god. Oh god, I thought you were going to break _the news_ to me, and, Jesus, thank you. Awesome. Okay,” Derek silently giggled at Scott’s babbling. “Okay, I’ll be by later, and you keep me updated, has John been by yet?”

                “He said that he had to work early so he could get off a little earlier, because he only got to stay for 10 minutes last night,”

                “Okay, well, you might call him, he’d like that,” Derek nodded and then realized that Scott couldn’t see it.  
                “Okay, see you later,” He ended the call. He decided he was going to wait until around lunch when he wouldn’t be a flustered. According to John, there was a big break in a major homicide case, and they needed all hands on deck. Derek pulled his laptop back out and started to research learning about music. He knew little about reading or writing music, and it could come at an advantage to him, because he still had no clue what Stiles meant by “They’re singing flat,” or “They’re singing in the wrong key” when they would watch award shows, like the CMAs, Grammys, I Heart Radio Music Awards, etc. The first page he went to explained the Treble Staff. He had no clue what that even meant, and why there were two staffs. The website explained how the lines on the treble staff could be summed up with the rhyme, “Every Good Boy Does Fine” for E, G, B, D, and F. The spaces spelled “FACE”. It then explained the difference between sharp and flat notes, and also natural notes. It still looked like Chinese to Derek, but he was starting to understand, and also get a glimpse into Stiles’ world when it came to music, and how it really was like learning Italian when you learn music. After spending two hours on that page, and multiple others, Derek could then identify the notes to read, and also on a piano. He understood that the notes repeated each other after G (because when Stiles mentioned that, it made no sense to him) and also how between every set of two black keys was the note D, and that Middle C was a big deal in the piano world. He ended up going to a page that explained the steps between scales, and why starting on a note other than a C on the piano and just playing the white keys will give you a different scale. Like a G major, if you just played the white keys, then it would be a Mixolydian scale. He didn’t know what the fuck a Mixolydian scale, but he knew that it wasn’t major, and it was different by the second to last note, and that in a major scale, it was supposed to be an F#.

                Derek’s alarm went off, saying it was 12:30, which was when he had planned to call John, and so he called up the Sheriff’s office. It rang twice before he got his secretary.

                “Beacon Hills Police Department, how may I help you?”

                “Yes, can I talk to Sheriff Stilinski please?”

                “Give me one second,” There was a pause on the other line before he heard John’s voice over the phone.

                “Sheriff Stilinski,” He said.

                “John, hey, it’s Derek. I have good news,” Derek then proceeded to explain when Melissa had come in and found out the good news and John’s tone went from depressed to excited and hopeful. Derek hung up the phone and then walked over to Stiles, kissing his cheek. “I love you,” The Silence was killing him. He then sat next to Stiles and continued to take pain from his small, pale frame. After about ten minutes, Derek stopped. That damn machine was still making its mechanical wheezes, and it was making Derek irritable. To a human, it probably sounded real, but he could hear the lifelessness of it, and he hated its mocking sound. His phone beeping distracted him from his thoughts and he looked to see that it was Landon.

                **Update??**

**Getting better** **J** **Still in the ICU though, and still not conscious, but you know…**

**Still though, could be worse**

**That’s what I keep saying**

**Do you think he’s going to go to prom?**

**Well, he wanted to, and I said I would go with him, so unless he changes his mind**

**That’s not what I meant**

**I know what you fucking meant**

**OKAY. SORRY.**

**Well, we still have like three months to determine that. No biggie**

**Good point I guess**

**Amazing point**

**You know coach actually canceled lacrosse practice until Scott and Stiles come back to co-captain, right?**

**No, that was nice of him**

**Well, he probably has a guilty conscious**

**Scott and Stiles did also help him not bleed to death when he got an arrow to the chest**

**Please tell me you’re joking**

**Nope, dead serious**

**Lol. Well, I gtg before I get my phone taken away. TTYL**

**Okay,**

                Derek felt a little sad reading back through the text messages. The last time that he had a relatively funny conversation with someone over text was Stiles, and he just wanted him to hurry up and get better, but healing, no matter what creature you are, does take time, and Derek understood that. He didn’t like it, but he understood it loud and clear.

The rest of the day was spent doing anything to distract Derek from writing his story. He had already told his publisher that he was having some family emergencies and that the book would most likely be late. They didn’t seem bothered by this and were in complete understanding. His writer’s block was still infuriating, and the fact that he couldn’t ask Stiles for his advice was bugging him too. He continued to read more on music until his head hurt from all of the information and then put in ear buds and listened to music. He downloaded Bastille’s album Bad Blood as per Stiles’ request, and had been listening to it nonstop. He looked out the window and watched the cars bustle around the streets. Off in the distance, there was a park full of kids rolling around in the grass, playing Frisbee, kickball, and football. Derek took out one of his ear buds so he could hear if someone came in, and started quietly singing along with it.

                “All this [bad blood](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qoNYlV07Cf8) here, won’t you let it dry? It’s been cold for years, won’t you let it lie?” He heard the sound of someone coming in. He turned his head to see that it was John. He looked tired as hell. He plopped down next to Derek and groaned. “Long day?”

                “Yeah. That ‘break’ we thought we got in the case, well, it just threw us through another loop. I was going to stay for at least another hour, but I was told to leave by Shonda,” Derek laughed. “Anyway, so has it gotten any better than that?”  
                “Not that I know of, sorry. Melissa said that it is a start, and I mean, it is looking up,”

                “That’s good. Well, my mom was going to come up today, but I told her that she should probably wait for a while until he’s better. If not, then she can come up, but it’s no immediate emergency, but Claudia’s mom and sister were planning on coming in this weekend and staying at the house anyway, before any of this, and I hadn’t told them anything, so then there’s that,” He shook his head and put his hands over his face and leaned his head back.

                “Wait, you haven’t told them anything? What do you define as anything?”

                “The surgery, the engagement, the cancer, the dementia,”  
                “You didn’t tell them about the dementia?”

                “No…?”  
                “John, let’s get real here. How do they react to bad news?” John didn’t respond. The question answered itself. “I see, well, we should probably tell them when they get into town, when will they be getting into town?”

                “Well, I think in a couple of hours, I honestly forgot. There’s been a lot going on,” Derek was surprised that John was so flustered and irresponsible. He usually didn’t do this,”  
                “Well, shit,” John’s phone beeped and he checked it.

                “Shit, make that a couple of minutes. They want to know where to meet,” Derek sighed.

                “Just tell them to come here. They need to know anyway. They will be forced to deal with it and won’t know what to stay until we get home. It’s the hospital vibe,” John seemed to agree with that answer.

                “Okay,” John got up and Derek did too. Before Derek left the room, he snuck a kiss onto Stiles’ cheek and tapped his arm.  
                “We’ll be right back, okay?” Derek pretended that he could hear Stiles answer, and followed John to the lobby. They sat at one of the tables, John reeking of anxiousness and a bit of fear. John turned his head when the automatic doors opened and in walked the two women. There was Joann, Claudia’s mom, and Claudia (from her pictures) was a spitting image of her. Claudia’s sister, Julie, had the same mahogany curly hair, but had different facial features. John got up and gave them hugs.

                “So, where are we going?” Joann said, pulling her large purse back onto her shoulder.

                “Sit,” John said. They did. Julie sat her phone on the table and Joann set her purse in her lap. “I have some things to tell you guys,” John took a deep breath. “Well, it’s been a busy year for all of us,”

                “Oh yeah, I wish we could have come earlier to visit you guys this year, but it just didn’t happen,” Julie said. John nodded.

                “Well, last year Stiles was diagnosed with Frontotemporal dementia, around the beginning of the school year. We were having some issues with him leaving home and not knowing where he was, etc. The day we had the MRI done, there was some electrical problems in town, but we did get the results, and they were an exact replica of Claudia’s, and that isn’t possible. So over this past summer, we spent some time getting Stiles’ ADD medication sorted out, we though he was having a reaction to one of the medications, which was the case, but we still went in to get another MRI at the neurologist, and they confirmed with the new scan that yes, he does have Frontotemporal dementia, but it’s in a very early stage, and that we will reevaluate it,” Julie’s face dropped. She looked like she was trying to find the words to say something, but she couldn’t.

                “Is that the reason that we’re here?” Joann asked. Derek shook his head. John continued.

                “Well, about 4 months ago, Stiles was getting really sick. He wouldn’t keep any of his meals down and just wasn’t looking healthy. We took him to the hospital because even though he didn’t have a fever, he didn’t stop throwing up at all, and they diagnosed him with stomach cancer. We went through a round of chemo, and they didn’t expect him to live that long, only 2 months, but we were lucky that he was a trooper about it, and got two months out of it. Derek’s been helping a lot. Well, last week, Stiles got back out of the hospital after finding out that the cancer, even though it was gone from his stomach, moved to his diaphragm, and they started another round of more aggressive chemo. Then, we found out that Stiles’ cancer was operable, so we took the chance, but there were some… complications, and now he’s in the ICU, and we’re just waiting. The silver lining to all of this, is through all of this, Stiles and Derek here,” John nodded towards Derek. “Have been dating. And last week he proposed to him,” Their faces looked conflicted for a second and then they finally smiled.     

                “That’s great, I’m happy for you too,” Joann said, smiling. “Well John, don’t just stand there, we’re going up there,” They all packed into one of the elevators and rode up. Julie grabbed Derek’s ring finger and looked at the ring. She seemed to like it. The elevator doors slid open and they went back to Stiles’ room. Derek was the first to enter.

“We’re back baby,” He set a kiss on his cheek and rustled his hair. Once Julie and Joann walked in, they gasped and Joann was starting to cry. “What? What?” She repeated, dropping her purse on the floor and running to Stiles’ side.

                “How long has it been?” Julie asked, worried.

                “Three days,”

                “Has he, has he improved any?” Derek shook his head.

                “Not really,” Derek said. “He’s barely breathing on his own, hints the respirator,” The two of them looked like they were going to cry. Derek sighed and sat down. He watched as the two fawned over Stiles, making sure he was okay.

                “Is that a tattoo?” Julie asked. Derek nodded.

                “He got it as an inspiration, to keep him going,” John said, his hands awkwardly in his pockets. Melissa came back in to check on Stiles and then left.

                “Do you want us to stay a couple more days?” Joann was now sitting in a chair right next to Stiles, watching him.

                “No, I think it’ll be okay. If anything gets worse, we’ll call you, but go ahead on your trip to Albuquerque,” John said.

                “We might not leave as early tomorrow morning,” Julie hinted.

                “No, no, leave when you would like, it’s fine. Derek has been here nonstop, and so has Scott, and we’re okay. Thank you though,”

                “Okay,” Derek checked the time. It was almost past visiting hours. He checked his phone to see that Scott had texted him, saying that he couldn’t come tonight due to getting a really late detention, and it also being EOC lockdown night, when all of the students pull an all-nighter at school to finish their EOC projects to submit to the district (considering California was a large state, starting in March was a pretty regular thing. A lot of schools started EOCs around March or April). Derek remembered when he did that. He ended up drinking a case of Red Bull by himself, passing out, and waking up with profanities written in sharpie marker across his face as he laid covered in glitter in the middle of the main hallway, but ended up acing all of his EOCs, so it’s okay, even though he couldn’t get the sharpie off and ended up just scrubbing his skin for hours until either his skin or the marker came off.

                “I’ll be back tomorrow hon,” Derek said. “I love you,” There was no response. Derek let the silence fill his ears and he left.

                                ~~~*~~~  
                The rest of the weekend showed little improvement. It kind of irritated Derek, like why couldn’t his little baby Stiles just get up from that bed and walk out, like he hadn’t been sitting there for nearly a fucking week? With Derek’s irritation, he got a little depressed. He kept reading up on his music, so maybe he could  catch up with Stiles (there was no fucking chance that he was going to catch up to Stiles’ music knowledge, because Stiles was always learning new music stuff) and also, he knew that it would please him. He also continued to read chapters to Stiles out of the book and would occasionally play some music that Stiles always listened to, like Panic! At the Disco, Imagine Dragons, Bastille, and Coleplay.  He then decided to write another letter.

                _Stiles,_

_You did improve some, and I am so very grateful for that, but I still want you to wake up. I haven’t left, well, until I’m kicked out, and every time I leave and I say I love you, the silence is kills me. It’s like being stabbed through the heart. I feel so conflicted, but god so help me I will stay here until the end of time, even when everyone says there’s no hope, because you know what? There is hope. You’re fucking Stiles. You pushed your life expectancy by two months, and you defeated cancer’s ass. It takes a strong young man to do this, and everyone needs a strong person in their life. You are my missing piece. You complete me. You are the greatest thing to happen to me, and I wouldn’t trade you for anything in the whole world._

_I remember the comment that you asked me. “Do you still love me, even though I’m broken?” It breaks my heart that you would even think of yourself like that, let alone anyone else aid that thought. We’re all broken, because, we’re only human, but the tone you said it in, made it seem like you thought something was wrong with you. There isn’t anything wrong with you, and you need to remember that you are and always will be beautiful to me._

_When you wake up, I’m going to shower you in kisses and hugs. I’ll play Nintendo with you, even though I never really liked video games, I’ll sneak in your favorite burger from that place downtown with the milkshake that you said you wanted, I’ll read you books, sing you songs, I’ll do whatever you want me to do. I love you so much. Please come back to me._

_With love, Derek Hale_

There was so much more Derek wanted to put in this letter, but he didn’t know what to put. He then decided to try to write a couple more chapters of his book. He was so close to finishing, he could feel it, but he really needed someone to proofread it. He decided to email his publisher about proofreading it. They responded immediately with a yes, so Derek sent them a PDF of the chapters. He turned his music back on, and the song [Every Night](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kuijhOvKyYg) by Imagine Dragons came on. Derek then heard an abnormal noise. It was choking. He looked over at Stiles, and ran out of the room to call a nurse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm thinking of writing a story with all of Derek's love letters, I don't know though. If you have an idea on if I should do this or not, either comment or slip it in my ask box. Thanks loves! *hugs through computer* you guys are amazing!


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good news brings praise all around, and Stiles tries to get back into his normal routine with the discussion of prom, the wedding, and graduation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it's back to Stiles' perspective now. Yaaa! okay, you can get back to your reading, sorry for the interruption.

Stiles opened his eyes and took a breath. He was immediately sent into panic mode to find out that he couldn’t breathe very easily, and that there was a tube down his throat. He watched as Derek went running out of the room to grab a nurse. Stiles kind of choked as the nurse pulled the tube out. He still felt like he couldn’t breathe, but was much less freaked out about it. He blinked his eyes and looked around the room, seeing that Derek was now right next to him.

                “Hey hon, how are you feeling?” Derek said quietly, holding Stiles’ face in his hand.

                “Hurts,” Stiles barely got out, his throat dry. He put his head back and blinked slowly.

                “Do you want to take a nap?” Stiles shook his head. He knew he had been asleep for a while, but he couldn’t recall for how long.

                “Der,” Stiles said, reaching towards Derek. Derek stood over the bed. Stiles took his arms and grabbed for Derek’s shoulders and hugged him. “I love you,” He kind of slurred out. Derek hugged him back and then kissed his forehead. Stiles laid back down. He could feel the drugs slowly wearing off and his chest tightened. Panic flew through him as he struggled for a good breath of air. Derek threw his hand over Stiles’ chest and kept it there, his veins coal black. Stiles felt a relief and took another breath. Melissa came into the room with more pain medication that she fed through a PICC line (his fucking luck) and everything was a little better. His head pounded. He couldn’t remember much, but things were slowly starting to come back into perspective. “Where’s my dad?” He said, his voice small.

                “I’m going to call him right now,” Derek said, grabbing his phone. He didn’t pay attention to what he was saying, but focused on staying awake. Fatigue nipped at him, but he wanted to talk to Derek and his dad. And why wasn’t his dad here? Derek got off the phone. “He’s on his way,”

                “Why…isn’t he here?” Stiles kind of slurred, looking towards Derek.

                “Hon, you’ve been here for four days,” Derek said calmly. Stiles abruptly brought his head up in confusion. “Four days? Four days?” He said a little louder. Everything was getting dizzy and he thought he was having another panic attack. The heart monitor’s pace increased as he breathed faster, his breaths still small and shallow.

                “Stiles, Stiles calm down, calm down, sh, you’re fine, look at me, Stiles, look at me dammit,” Stiles turned his head, still hyperventilating. “You are fine. There were some complications with the operation, but you are fine. Don’t worry. Everything is fine, better now that you’re awake and breathing,” Stiles calmed down slightly. He still had faster breaths as he looked at Derek, who held his head in his large hands. “C’mon, you’re better than this, you’re okay. You’re safe,” Stiles calmed down completely and released a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

                “What happened?” Stiles finally asked, filling the overbearing silence that filled the room.

                “Well, in the process of trying to remove your tumor, they hit your lung and it got punctured. The tumor was bigger than they expected, and you lost a lot of blood, and they put you in a medically induced coma until you could breathe on your own,” Stiles was in shock.

                “Four days?”

                “It could have been so much longer, but yes, four days,” Stiles sighed and shook his head. He saw that Derek booted up his computer. A look of complete fear swooped its way across his face.

                “What’s wrong?”

                “Oh my god. Oh my god holy shit,” Derek repeated.

                “Derek, what’s wrong?”

                “I sent the wrong file to the publisher! I went to send them the manuscript for the book and I sent them the wrong fucking file!” Derek covered his face. “Oh my god, this isn’t good. Holy shit,” Stiles grabbed the laptop from his lap and pulled up the email.

                _Mr. Smith,  
                I am pleased to inform you that we accept your new publication. The only request we might make is that you come up with a title, and maybe insert some more letters. We have high hopes for this book, and we are really hoping to hear back from you!_

_-Mark Stevenson, Razor Publishing_

“What are you freaking out for? It’s a good email,” Stiles handed Derek back the laptop and he read through it.

                “It was more of a personal thing,”

                “A personal thing?”  
                “Yeah,” Stiles, who had the larger part of the laptop yanked it back and started going through Derek’s files. He found a word document called “Letters” and he opened it to find a password. He took a wild guess that it was his name. It was.

                “You are about as oblivious as Scott when it comes to passwords. Really Derek?”

                “Stiles, don’t read it!”

                “Too late,” Stiles started reading. Derek didn’t stop him. He got all the way down to the last one about thirty minutes later and he looked up, tears clouding his vision. “Is this what you’ve been doing for the past five months?” Stiles asked, his lip quivering.

                “Yes. Ever since your dementia was confirmed, I just didn’t want anything unsaid. Anything at all. I wanted you to make sure that I loved you, even if you couldn’t remember my name, my face, who I was to you, I wanted you to always have that,” Derek pulled his sleeve down and cleaned Stiles’ face. “You are beautiful,”

                “Thanks,” Stiles laughed, wiping his face. “That’s what you sent to the publisher?”

                “I guess so,” Derek said, shrugging his shoulders.

                “Are you going to publish it?”

                “Only if you let me…”  
                “Of course I would let you,”

                                ~~~*~~~

                “How are you feeling Mr. Stilinski?” Stiles played with the bracelet around his wrist. He was chewing on it, but he pulled it out of his mouth to answer him. “I’m a lot better. I still have a little shortness of breath, and some days are better than others, of course, but so far, everything is fine,” The doctor nodded.

                “Well, it looks like you are cancer-free. That doesn’t mean we don’t expect you to come back. You are in remission, but it seems like everything is going to be okay,” He smiled as he talked to Stiles. Stiles’ face lit up and he shook his dad’s shoulder. It had been three weeks from when he had gotten out of the hospital. He excitedly bounced in his chair. “I would say we won’t have to see you for another six months,” Stiles smiled and shook his hand, thanking the man. They checked out and left towards the cruiser.

                “Dad, it’s gone. It’s gone, dad it’s gone!” Stiles nearly screamed. John gave him a hug, patting him on the back.

                “I’m proud of you kid,”

                “Thanks dad,” They got into the car and John started driving.

                “How about some celebratory ice cream, hmm?”

                “That sounds awesome,” John drove to their favorite ice cream place, the same place that they had gone when Stiles was done with his first round of chemo. It wasn’t bad weather. They sat inside, ordering a side of fries with the ice cream.

                “That’s disgusting,” John commented as Stiles jammed his fries into his ice cream. He picked up a big hunk of ice cream with chocolate sauce dripping off of it.

                “Its good dad, try it,” John looked wearily at Stiles’ chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream (of course) and finally dipped a few fries in it. “Good, right?” John nodded.

                “How have I lived my whole life and never done this?”

                “I don’t know, but you have to bring out your inner kid sometimes, think outside the box. Regress back to being a curious child when all else fails,” Stiles said, ice cream dripping down his face.

                “Son, you’re a mess,”

                “Literally or metaphorically?”

                “Well, both, but your face,” John motioned around his face and Stiles grabbed a handful of napkins and wiped his face. He dipped one of the napkins in his water glass so it wouldn’t be sticky. “Better,” Stiles laughed and finished his ice cream like a civilized human being (do you realize how hard that is?) and they threw their trash away as they headed out the door. Stiles checked his phone and saw that Derek had texted him.

                **You free tonight?**

**Am I free for my fiancé? Actually, I don’t think so…**

**Stiles**

**Yes’m?**

**STILES**

**Yes, I’m free, why?  
                We’re having a date night**

**Is this a question or a statement?**

**I don’t know, possibly both…?**

**The answer to the question is yes**

**Okay.**

**Okay.**

**I’ll meet you at your house**

Stiles got out of the cruiser after John parked it in the driveway. He got out of the car, a spring in his step and he ran up to his room. He started writing a letter. It was a couple of pages long, and he did his best to write it in cursive (which was much more legible than his chicken scratch handwriting) and stapled the pages together. He folded the piece of paper nicely and shoved it deep into his pocket. He then hopped back downstairs and started playing a round of Call of Duty Ghosts, playing with Scott through Xbox Live. He and Scott were dominating against everyone.

                “Dude, change out your gun to the sniper,” Scott protested. “I have the best hiding spot,”

                “Nope, I’m staying on my shotgun. I’m better at stabbing people anyway, Scott, you know that,”

“Well, I need a sniping buddy,”

                “Well, you’re going to have to pull up your fucking panties and deal with it,”

                “Stiles,” Scott whined.

                “Scott,” Stiles whined back mockingly.

                “God, fine, whatever,”  
                “Yaaa! I’m a backstabber!”

                “You’re telling me,” Stiles could only imagine the hostile face that Scott was making. They continued with the game, sniping or stabbing or bombing the other team.

                “Dude, I spawned a dog, what should I name it?” Someone from the other team slit Stiles’ throat. “My doggy!”  
                “Stiles, you died,”

                “I worked so hard to get that dog!”  
                “That is pitiful, you are pitiful,”  
                “You are pitiful-er!” They continued to play the game. When the round ended, Stiles saw he had another text from Derek.

                **Had to run errands. Meet me at the restaurant around 6. We’re going to Jerry’s Café**

Stiles liked Jerry’s. He replied with an okay before going back to his game. He still had thirty minutes before he had to leave. He played one more round of the game before he decided to leave. He signed off, turned his Xbox off, and headed out. He started driving on the street and pulled into one of the driveways. He locked the Jeep and walked in the grass, the sky gloomy. He stopped and got on his knees next to one of the headstones. He pulled at the mat next to the headstones and pulled a small metal box out of the ground. He fumbled with his keys and unlocked the box, slipping the letter into the box. He looked around to make sure no one was looking at him, and locked the box, putting it back where it originally was. He kissed his hand and touched the headstone.

                “I love you mom, and I miss you,” Stiles traced Claudia’s name in the headstone with is thumb and got back in the Jeep, heading towards the restaurant.

                Stiles walked in and looked for Derek. He didn’t see him anywhere. He sighed and slid into a booth. As soon as he pulled up his menu, Derek came in and slid into the other booth.

                “Hey love,” He said, pecking a kiss on Stiles’ forehead.

                “Hey,”  
                “Sorry it took so long, I bought some new printer ink because it wasn’t printing anything and it kept saying the ink was out, well, it turns out that it just wasn’t working. So I took my laptop over to the library to print some things and it still wasn’t working! I took it to the computer place by the flower shop and it had malware on it!”

                “You backed up all of your stuff, right?”

                “I did right before I took the laptop in. Thank god for Google Chrome, right?” Stiles nodded. The thing about Jerry’s café is that there was always a paper tablecloth and a jar of crayons to draw with. Stiles went crazy and started drawing stuff on the table, like he usually did. He remembered when he and his mom used to do that, and the owner of the restaurant had a wall practically dedicated to Stiles, where he hung all of his drawings on the wall (and there was a pretty big selection of them, considering their family used to go there every Thursday night). Stiles looked over at the wall, now blank. It had been ever since the owner had died and someone else took over. Stiles continued to doodle on the tablecloth, a little blurry-minded as Derek talked. Stiles admittedly wasn’t listening. When Derek would ask him a question, he would nod his head. When a waitress finally came to take their orders, Stiles got the chicken fried steak (like usual) and Derek got a burger. “How was your doctor’s appointment?”  
                “Fine,” Stiles said, coloring in his awesome tyrannosaurus rex with a bowler hat, writing the caption “I have a big head, and little arms, and I’m not sure how well this plan was thought through”. Typical Stiles to pick a Disney Quote, let alone from one of his favorite Disney movies _, Meet the Robinsons_.

                “Just fine?”  
                “Yeah. Just fine,”

                “Good news, bad news?”

                “Oh yeah, I forgot to tell you! Sorry, I got distracted. There’s crayons, and coloring, and anyway, I’m in remission,”

                “Stiles, that’s amazing!” Derek nearly shouted. Stiles nodded.

                “I mean, it’s gone, but it doesn’t mean it might come back, but for right now, I’m in the clear, yup,” Stiles popped the P and went back to coloring. Derek just watched him, mesmerized that he had the focus to sit there and color contently. Stiles did this for several minutes until the food came, in which he ate quietly.

                “You’ve been awful quiet, something on your mind?”

                “Nope. Just thinking,” Stiles ate into his dinner, shoveling mashed potatoes into his mouth. “Just, had a weird day. Y’know? Just, I don’t know,” Stiles sighed.

                “Well, I have something planned,” Derek said, raising his eyebrows.

                “That is…?”  
                “You’ll see,”  
                                ~~~*~~~

                “Derek, seriously, what is the surprise?” Stiles said, a blindfold around his eyes. He rode on the werewolf’s back as they trotted through what sounded like the woods. Stiles held his arms firmly around Derek’s neck before he stopped and carefully put Stiles on the ground. He grabbed Stiles’ hands and led him a couple more feet before dropping the blindfold. Stiles looked up to see that they were at the Beacon Falls. In the water, there was floating lights and floating candles. There was also peony pedals scattered through the small pool. Derek stood next to the pool and tossed his shirt towards the woods. Stiles threw off his sneakers towards Derek’s shirt and stripped the rest of his clothing as Derek did the same. They both slowly sunk into the pool of water. It was surprisingly warm. Stiles swum around and then dunked his head in the water. He ended up catching a load of peony pedals in his hair and picked them out. Derek surfaced from underwater and his hair fell in his eyes. Stiles took it and brushed it out of his eyes, laughing.

                “You’re such a dork,”  
                “I know,” Stiles said, putting his index finger on his cheek.

                “You’re my dork though,”

                “I know,” Stiles got closer to Derek, bobbing his head near the water. He then shot a stream of water out of his mouth over Derek’s head.

                “You are disgusting,”

                “C’mon Derek, it was just a little spit, and water, and all of the bacteria in the water that we are now swimming in. You know you have to marry this, right?”  
                “I’m starting to have second thoughts,” Derek said sarcastically. Stiles had a deadpan look on his face. “No, Stiles, I was joking,” Stiles’ attitude dropped and he swam back to the shore. He stomped through the leaves, trying to locate his clothes. He picked up his boxers and brushed them clean of the leaves, then his shirt, then his pants, and walked away, stomping his heels into his sneakers. He started running out of the woods. “Stiles! Stop!” He heard Derek roar. He continued to run. He ran around neighborhoods to throw off his scent and then went back to his house. Thank god his dad wasn’t there, because he just wanted to be by himself. He sat on his bed, a couple of tears dropping down his face. He was pissed that Derek would even joke about that. He went into his closet and started digging in a box of old school projects. He gave up and took the whole box off of the shelf and dumped it on the floor. Several science fair ribbons; little league metals and trophies; essays; winning drawing contest certificates; and random drawing and paintings came tumbling out in a clatter. He searched through the pile of childhood memories and then came short. He took the box and threw it to the other side of the room, it hitting his bookshelf, nicking the finish a little bit. He turned his head and covered his eyes with his arms, his knees to his face. He heard something light drop to the floor. He looked back over to the box to see _the red notebook_. He quickly ran to it and pulled it from between the box’s liner. The notebook had pen marks and places where a pencil was grinded into the cover in slashing patterns. The subject read “To Mom”. Stiles felt memories flooding back to him, the memories of his mom dying, people not understanding, and people just being mean. He flipped back a couple of pages, past all of the drawings that he did of him and his mom watching the sunset, drawn in a dream format above a crying Stiles at her grave.  There were anger ones too. Ones with a person who was crying blood, smearing it across their face like a Holocaust survivor tattoo, to show what had happened. Every page Stiles flipped back, his chest tightened. He remembered taking that notebook to school every single day for the next three years. That’s what he called his silent period. He flipped to the page he was looking for and read through it.

                **Silence**

**By Stiles Stilinski**

**I was always the social one.**

**There was no use in moving my seat because I would talk to everyone.**

**Talking was how I connected to people, how I kept my confidence.**

**I would talk to anyone who cared to listen,**

**Recite poems like song lyrics**

**Give out encouragements like candy.**

**But not everyone thought of me that way.**

**“You’re so fucking stupid,”**

**“Why do you even talk?”  
                “Can you just shut the hell up?”**

**I decided to give them what they wanted,**

**A moment of silence. Absolute, complete, utter silence.**

**Days turned to weeks turned to months turned to years,**

**And I kept my words inside, not talking to anyone.**

**“Why don’t you ever say anything?”**

**Maybe things are better left unsaid.**

**“Speak to me, say something!” Some would beg.**

**I walked away as the words ate at my throat.**

**I decided that I wasn’t going to talk**

**To fill the silence.**

**After being told you’re unwanted forever**

**Doing what you’re expected to do**

**Giving into the others**

**You’ll still never be good enough.**

**Until I figure out how to be good enough,**

**All I’ll ever be**

**Is silent.**

Stiles read the words again, and flashed back to his 12 year old self writing that in the library during lunch, while a book was thrown across the room and hit him in the face. He wrote it in the beginning, when he was still suffering the loss of his mom. He flipped through the rest of the notebook, finding poems, drawings, sketches, and as the pages started to fill, he started feeling more closure. The last page said “Everything will be okay” in green ink, surrounded by a whole bunch of pictures cut out of a magazine of things, such as an Xbox controller, colored pencils, ice cream, paints, music notes, and other miscellaneous items. He got the box off of the floor and threw all of his stuff back in it (not including the notebook), pushing it back into his closet and throwing an old blanket over it. His phone buzzed vigorously on the desk. Stiles saw it was Derek. He answered it.

                “Stiles-?”

                “You know what Derek? If you would have said you had second thoughts, then maybe you should’ve said so. I’m not your charity case anymore.” He ended the call and threw his phone to the other side of the room. He took his engagement ring and put it in the box that it came with and threw it in the box in his closet. “There,” He said, being happy with the noise the box made as it hit the back of the closet before plopping into the box. He then went into the bathroom and slammed the door. He sat on the edge of the bathtub and picked at the skin on his hands. He tapped his foot and tried to clear his head. He ended up turning the water on in the bathtub and getting in it, fully clothed. He was already soaking wet, so it didn’t matter to him. He then got out of the tub several minutes later, stripping down and dressing into clean clothes and laying on his bed. He sighed and rubbed his arms. “It’ll get easier Stiles, it’ll get easier,”

                                ~~~*~~~  
                It was around midnight when Stiles woke up. He was irritable, and he couldn’t sleep. He saw something move in the far corner of the room. He turned on his light to see Derek, sitting against the wall.

                “Jesus Christ, what are you doing here?” Derek pulled the red spiral notebook from his lap. Stiles then could see that there were tears going down his cheeks.

                “I, I wanted to say I was sorry, and I came to apologize, and I saw this on your desk, and I decided to take a peak and, I am so sorry. I didn’t know that you would take the comment that seriously, but that is no excuse for what I said. That isn’t something to joke about,” There was a part of Stiles that wanted to forgive Derek, to cuddle up next to him and go back to before that moment, but he knew that he couldn’t. “I realize you might not accept my apology now, and I understand that, but I just want to ask for one more chance to woo you,” Now Stiles was convinced. “Can we start over?” Stiles nodded.

                “Hi, I’m Stiles Stilinski,”

                “Derek Hale,”  
                “Derek Hale… hmm, where have I seen that name before? Did you happen to work at the bookstore for a while a couple of years ago?”

                “Uh, yeah actually,” Stiles remembered seeing him when he would go and get books, especially during his silent period, when all he did was read. He enjoyed seeing his face, and even though he looked like an asshole, he always helped Stiles manage to find a decent book.

                “You have a good taste in books,” Stiles said. He got up and started rummaging through the closet and found the ring box and handed it to Derek. Derek carefully grabbed the ring out of the box and slipped it on his slim finger and they sat on the floor together.

                “I’m seriously wondering what happened here. I mean, only if you’re okay with it,” Stiles sighed and went to his yearbooks. He grabbed the ones from sixth, seventh, and eight grade.

                “She died at the beginning of sixth grade. I was heartbroken. Every day was a struggle for me, but I made sure to talk to everyone, and pretend something didn’t happen. Then, I used to be bullied a little,” Stiles sighed. It was a little easier to talk about it now. “I was always too loud, I talked too much, I sometimes gave a wrong answer in confidence, and these comments, these names, and they would just swim in my head like fish in a bowl. All I ever saw were these names, and it was like they were fucking nametags that told everyone who I was to them. Then one day, someone asked me why I even bothered talking, and I thought about that. I really didn’t know why, and that’s what everyone said, so I gave them what they wanted. I stayed silent, said barely nothing for three years. My teachers blamed it on my grieving, my dad blamed it on my age, and I, well, I blamed myself for not being good enough. Every single time I looked in the mirror, I never saw me, I saw someone who was an embarrassment, who didn’t fit in, and someone who was never good enough. It took me those three years to figure out how to love who I am. Starting high school was like a fresh start, and honestly, it was fabulous, but after starting to date girls who would reject me, call me worthless, I tried to let it slide right off my back, but then there’s that little piece of me that reminds me that maybe I am worthless. I used to have a friend. He was funny, joked about everything, and people made fun of him a lot. He was okay with it, but as soon as you made fun of his weight, he would just break. You could call him the worst things in the book, but if you even said that he might be fat at all, he wouldn’t be at school for a couple of days. He had an awkward phase that hit him pretty hard. The comment you said, that was my awkward face. I, I probably overreacted, and I’m sorry, but, there’s some things that I just can’t deal with.” Stiles was now starting to laugh a little bit. “The funny thing is, is that those names were thrown around forever, literally ever since I was born. These names, but I also had my mom to reassure me, to tell me that I was good enough for her, and when she left, I didn’t realize how much I depended on her,” Derek sat speechless. “You probably think this is all stupid, but-.”  
                “No, I don’t think it’s stupid,” Derek reassured. “When my family died in the fire, I tried to go back in and get my other siblings, and I got burned really badly, but I stayed in that house for six years, telling myself that maybe one day they would walk back through that door, but they never did. I-I can’t. I know how you feel. I’m sorry,”

                “It’s okay,” Stiles said, nuzzling closer to Derek. “I think that was the stupidest fight we have had,”

                “Well, we grew as a couple and as people. I don’t think it was stupid. Couples who fight about things like this mean they care about each other, and that maybe they need to just vent some stuff out like this. You feel better?” Stiles nodded. “I feel better. See? It’s okay to fight. Just because we may be hostile, and say mean things, it doesn’t mean we love each other any less,” Stiles agreed with that. “And what you told me on the phone, about you being a charity case? You were never a charity. I wouldn’t care if you were the richest, most perfect human being ever, or if you were on your deathbed, I don’t do charity cases,”

                “Well, that’s kind of why I don’t tell people things. I don’t want to be treated differently,”

                “And you shouldn’t be treated differently if you don’t want to,” Stiles nuzzled his head closer into Derek’s chest and ended up falling asleep on the floor.

                                ~~~*~~~

                “Stiles?” Stiles was being woken up by Derek, who was carefully shaking him awake. “You have to go to school,”

                “I don’t want to,” He pulled the covers over his head, not remembering when he had gotten into his own bed.

                “You’ve missed a lot of school, c’mon, you only have like two more months, get up,” Derek went over to the side of the bed and tipped the mattress, causing him to fall out of it.

                “You’re a douche,”

                “My man is going to get a job and have a career, what did you want to be anyway?”  
                “I wanted to be a computer programmer and or graphic design artist,” Stiles picked himself up off of the floor and threw on a shirt and a pair of pants. Derek opened Stiles’ closet to see his collection of shoes.

                “Holy shit, you have a lot of shoes,”

                “Some kids buy drugs, new iPhones every six months, and online shop all the time; I buy music, books, videogames, and shoes. You wanna pick out a pair?” Derek sorted through the shoes. He thought he had stumbled into Lydia’s closet, if her closet was full of Vans, Converse, tennis shoes, high tops, low tops, boots, and Sperry’s for guys. He settled on a pair of Nike low tops that had a stripe down the side and were made of leather.

                “How about these?”

                “Those are fine,” Derek threw him the shoes and he quickly slipped them on. He threw some binders in his backpack and headed downstairs, dragging the backpack behind him the whole way. He dropped it at the end of the stair and immediately made some coffee. He grabbed a clean mug and waited for the coffee machine to groan and make coffee. The coffee maker then started to smoke and Stiles started flipping shit. Derek unplugged it and took the machine outside and sat it in the backyard. “Just my fucking day,” Stiles sighed.

                “Here, I’ll take you to school, we’ll stop by Starbucks,”

                “I was supposed to pick up Scott,”

                “We’ll get him too,”

                “Do you think he’s awake?”

                “He will be soon enough,” Stiles grabbed his backpack and headed towards Derek’s Camaro. He checked his phone to see that Scott had texted him, saying that there was an early lacrosse practice.

                “Guess we don’t need to get Scott,” Stiles said. Derek drove to Starbucks, going through the drive thru. Stiles ordered a double chocolate chip Frappuccino and Derek got a Chai Latte. Stiles drank most of it on the way to school. Derek pulled in the front circle drive and put the car in park.

                “Got everything?” Stiles nodded. “Phone? Wallet? Medicine? Ring?”

                “Yup, I’m good.”  
                “Okay, I’ll pick you up later today, alright? If you need something don’t hesitate to call. I love you, have a good day,” Stiles leaned his head in and Derek gave him a big kiss before hugging him.

                “Love you too,” Derek handed him his backpack from the trunk and Stiles slung it over his back. He went into the door of the school, feeling better about himself. He had study hall first hour, so he sat in one of the seats and waited for the bell to ring. Once it did, he told the teacher he was going to go to the library, and he left. He found a spot in the nonfiction section of their large library, were there were a couple comfy chairs, where he plugged in his laptop and sat his feet up on the magazine table in front of him. He first finished the paper he was working on and then rewarded himself with interweb surfing. He first logged onto the Berkeley page from the link of his acceptance email (he did get an official letter, but he still hadn’t signed up for the year yet). He filled out his online paperwork and submitted it before going back to his email, where he saw that he had gotten the job at the Music Store. He chewed on his pen as he scrolled through Tumblr. Then, the fire alarm started to go off. Stiles started packing his stuff up. “Is this a drill?” He asked one of the librarians.

                “No!” She said in a panic. Stiles threw his backpack on his back and headed toward the lacrosse field with the rest of the students. He ended up catching up with Scott and Lydia, and they sat in a circle off to the side of the field. Scott grabbed the cards he had in his backpack and dealt out a hand to everyone for B.S. (or Bullshit) and they started contently playing in the grass. Scott always had cards on him for occasions like this, they learned their lessons for weird shit happening at Beacon Hills High. Lydia ran out of cards first.

                “Fuck you!” Stiles sneered at you.

                “Stiles, you have an awful poker face,” Lydia said. Stiles threw his cards and so did Scott. Stiles grabbed the deck and reshuffled them, bridging the cards a couple of times. When he felt they were shuffled enough, he started dealing for E.R.S. (or Egyptian Rat Slap). Scott used to hate this game, because he always had slow reflexes, but now he could beat anyone and everyone at this game. That kind of pissed Stiles off because he used to be the E.R.S. champion at school, summer camp, youth group, and sometimes when everyone was done playing blackjack at Danny’s (where they would lose their money to Lydia. Stiles still swears she counts cards). Stiles had practically all of the face cards in his stack, and was defeating everyone. He laughed every time someone would irritably curse at his good luck. Eventually, the teachers rounded them all up to get back into the school, saying that a kid had pulled the alarm. By then, it was already halfway through second hour, so Stiles went to his College Algebra class, where they were pretty much done anyway (and that day’s lesson plan was ruined because of the fire drill mishap) so Stiles ended up doing the homework that the teacher assigned in lightning speed.

                **How’s your day?** – Derek texted

                **Well, some dipshit pulled the fire alarm, and I am literally doing nothing today. I have free period last hour (hint hint)  
                I don’t care, would you like me to?**

**Yes please**

**Alright. What time?  
                I don’t know, around two thirty?**

**What do you want to do?**

**I have an idea ;) It involves a makeup**

**A makeup?**

**Makeup sex Derek, get with the program**

**Insuring that’s what you meant**

**Of course that’s what I meant, what else am I going to with my shallow pedantic life?**

**Videogames, Tumblr, music, drawing shit, shall I continue?**

**Okay I get the point. Speaking of music, guess who got the job?**

**Scott?**

**No, me! They wanted me to help with lessons. Piano, guitar, and I think possibly saxophone?  
                Are you fucking kidding me? You play the saxophone too? Well, we should call you Bill Clinton**

**Or you could not, you know. He had a cat named socks. Fucking socks. Who names their cat socks?**

**Bill Clinton…**

**That’s true. But yes, I did play saxophone for a while. I had to quit it after eighth grade to do lacrosse. I also sold it and used it for a down payment on my Jeep.**

**And your dad was okay with this?  
                I needed a car more. It was my decision, but you can’t drive a saxophone to school, JS**

**If you believed enough I bet you could**

**Haha, you’re funny. Really.**

**I sense sarcasm?**

**Gee, you think? Seriously, that believe shit was like you were running a Reading Rainbow Special. Cliché!**

**Whatever. You probably don’t even remember Reading Rainbow.**

**Take a look, it’s in a book, a reading rainbow**

**Wow, I am truly impressed.**

**You better be. Well, the bell rang, and I actually have to pay attention in Theory, so…**

**Okay. Love you, bye!  
                Bye!**

Stiles walked to his next class, getting their early. They were finishing up auditions for All State Jazz Band in the classroom. The trumpet in there sounded really good, filled with talent. Stiles remembered when he used to audition for stuff and get into the higher bands. And also the chair competition was always game. He honestly missed it, but he needed a little more time, and after his mom passed, he realized that it was also part of the root of his depression. He then thought about Derek’s hilarious saxophone comment as the freshman looking trumpet player exited the music classroom and he went in. He sat in one of the black plastic chairs, flipped the desk part out from being tucked behind the chair to set in front of him, and got out his textbook. His theory teacher was erasing some notes he had written for the trumpet player, along with some counts underneath it. People slowly started to file into the small classroom. It wasn’t a big class, maybe ten kids in the whole class, and he liked it. Today they had a test, so once the bell rang, the soft spoken teacher passed out the test packet, said they had all class to finish it, and went back to his computer, where he put in one of his ear buds and typed away on his computer. Stiles swears that he was catching up on Jimmy Fallon that he had missed that night (because he did that a lot when they ended up not doing much in Theory) or searching some more videos to play in the concert bands before they tuned and started from The Piano Guys.

                “Jesus,” Jared said under his breath as he vigorously attacked the paper with his shiny pen. Stiles rolled his eyes and went back to his test. It was relatively easy. The middle of unit tests always contained a note reading portion, to see how well you could read music. Once Stiles hit that point, he breezed through it. After about 45 minutes, he checked the rest of his test, and was pleased with it. He got up and slipped it in the basket in the front and navigated to the back of the room like he usually did. The theory teacher allowed you to mess around with your phone after you turned in a test, but if you even had it on your desk while the test was there, it was an automatic Saturday (detention). Stiles then got on Twitter (because he heard some hot gossip spreading around the school like a summer wildfire) and checked out the bitch fight happening between two kind of whoreish girls about something like one of them sleeping with the other’s boyfriend, or something really stupid, and then before he knew it, the bell was ringing. He sighed and got up, throwing his backpack over his shoulder and going out to the front of the school where he met Derek, sitting in his car. He waved, and Stiles waved back. He went towards the back of the car and knocked on the trunk. He heard the latch pop open and he threw his backpack back there.

                “How was school?” Derek asked, Stiles slipping his seatbelt around his torso as Derek drove off.

                “Good,” Stiles then batted at Derek’s arm which sat casually on the arm rest, his fingers tapping at the gear shift. “But I know of something better,” Derek suddenly started to speed up, trying to get to the loft faster. Once they hit the parking lot, Derek swerved into a spot and quickly got out of the car. He opened the door for Stiles, clinging to him like a bitch dog in heat. Stiles shut the door. They weren’t even able to shut the door all the way before Derek was slamming Stiles against it, nipping at his neck. Stiles loved when he did that. He then pulled Stiles’ shirt over his head and tossed it across the room. Stiles stepped out of his shoes, and Derek followed. They slowly slipped out of their clothing and ended up having nothing but socks and boxers on. Stiles slid inside Derek’s sheets. He hadn’t been in Derek’s bed in a while, and he missed the comforting smell, the comfy mattress, and most of all, the warm body to sleep against. He settled himself on his side of the bed and pulled his engagement ring off of his finger, and sat it on the night stand. Derek then pulled Stiles’ boxers off, and Stiles wiggled out of his socks as Derek stripped down to nothing. Stiles rolled over onto Derek’s bare back, where he traced over Derek’s tattoo with his thumb before pulling his arms around Derek’s neck.

                “I love you,” He whispered as Stiles wrapped himself around Derek.

                                ~~~*~~~

                Stiles woke up a couple of hours later, underneath Derek’s sheets. Derek was nuzzled up close to him. His hand was laid on Stiles’ chest, his fingers running over Stiles’ multiple scars. Stiles flinched away from him a little bit where Derek touched the newest of the scars. There were still bruises around it. Derek pulled his hand away.

                “Does that hurt?” Stiles shook his head and guided Derek’s hand back over to his chest.

                “It’s okay,” Derek leaned over Stiles and kissed every single scar, his lips soft against Stiles’ chest. Stiles nuzzled his hands in Derek’s hair and Derek looked up, his green eyes glowing like emeralds. Derek got up and went to the bathroom, Stiles shutting his eyes. He opened his eyes when he heard the door open. Derek was now fully clothed, and had a washcloth in his hand. He sat there and scrubbed Stiles clean before tossing him a change of clean clothes. Stiles always liked wearing Derek’s clothes, because they were a size bigger, always smelled like him, and were always comfortable (considering that even his regular clothes bagged over him from all of the weight loss). He pulled on the clothes and then walked out of the bedroom. He went into the kitchen, his feet cold from the concrete flooring below. Stiles looked at the time on the stove. 5:30. He grabbed a soda out of the fridge and started to drink most of it.

                “Do you wanna get dinner hon?” Derek called from the other room.

                “Depends what you have for groceries,” Stiles opened the cabinets. He thought he literally saw a dust bunny blow across the nearly empty shelf. There were a couple of cans of soup, a box of crackers, and a bag of rice. “Well, that question answered itself. When was the last time you went grocery shopping?”

                “I don’t know, a couple of months ago. I only stop by the store to get soda, beer, and popcorn. I mean, you’ve been in the hospital, so I would usually either eat somewhere downtown or at the cafeteria, and once you got out, I’ve been meeting with my publisher about this new book of love letters. I still don’t have a title. Or a cover. Or if I’m going to remain anonymous on the book or not-.”  
                “Well, I can do a cover, we can collaborate on a title, and because you’ve already started the anonymous thing, let’s continue that,”

                “How do you just come up with stuff like this?”

                “I think I forgot to take my Adderall today. Still tired all the time, so sometimes I forget, I mean, I don’t have the energy to be over the top energetic,” Stiles sighed and downed the rest of his coffee. “Do you know what I want for my graduation present? A Keurig. I mean, I can make tea, hot chocolate, coffee, and other shit. And I mean, I love coffee so much. Wait, are we going to start looking for houses? Oh god, what about kids, do we need to start thinking about that right now? Derek?!” Stiles was definitely feeling the loss from his Adderall.

                “Calm down, we still have plenty of time to decide this. We can wait a little bit,” Derek said, patting Stiles on the shoulder.

                “I mean, we do need to think about these things. Have you run it by Cora yet?”

                “It’s crossed my mind, but no,”

                “Well, maybe we should,”

                “I did tell her about the wedding though, and she will be coming up for that. Speaking of, we really need to come up with a date for the wedding,” Stiles grabbed his phone and pulled up a note he made.

                “What season? I have good dates,”

                “I was kind of hoping either a fall or winter if that’s okay. Hoping fall. It’ll be pretty nice outside, even hot maybe, but not uncomfortable,”

“Well, there’s October 14th, November 17th, November 3rd…”  
“I like the November third. Can we get a pastor for that day?”

“I’ll do some calling around this weekend, and we need to get a photographer to take a few photos for the invitations. I can get that set up easy. Lydia is amazing at photography, and she’ll probably plan the rest of the wedding if we let her, but I kind of want to do it, and it’s pretty much planned,” Stiles shrugged. “But we can have the invitations out in, what, three weeks? I’ll just Shutterfly that. That’s what I’m using for my graduation invitations. It’s cheaper than having someone draft up a design when I can do it myself,”

                “Damn, you make it seem so easy,”

                “Well, it’ll be more work once we have to send all of this shit to people. I don’t want to ask Lydia to write all of these invitations, she already has a lot to do,” Stiles sighed.

                “I know how to do calligraphy,” Derek mentioned, going into the closet on the other side of the kitchen and pulling out multiple calligraphy pens. “I learned because I wanted to sign my books nicely, but instead, I kind of became a recluse and just signed them with a regular pen and sent them in bulk to bookstores,”

                “Well, you can write the addresses,” Stiles said smiling. “We need to figure out who we want to cater it, but everything will go pretty smoothly. We are pretty much good to go,” Stiles slipped his hands into the pockets of his (Derek’s) sweatpants and patiently waited for his cup of coffee. The coffee maker groaned and spilled out coffee into the coffee pot. Stiles poured it into one of Derek’s mugs and then and sipped at it. “Where are we going to get dinner? We should probably somewhere where I won’t be judged for bumming,”

                “We could go to Main Street Brewery. I’m in the mood for a fresh brew,” Derek went back into his bedroom and found a pair of tennis shoes and handed Stiles a pair of jeans. Stiles went to his dirty pair of jeans on the floor and pulled the belt out of them and tightened the jeans as far as they would go. They still bagged over him, but he didn’t give a shit at this point. He adjusted the t-shirt, found his shoes, and they were out the door and in Derek’s car.

                “This car would be sexier if it was a convertible,” Stiles said, tapping his fingers on the armrest. “Seriously, you could just drop the top, watch people stare in awe, throw on a pair of maverick shades and boom! You’ll look amazing,”  
                “You say that as if I’m going to just go get one,”

                “Are you?”

                “No!”

                “It could be our car,”  
                “Let’s get a house first. And you have a Jeep. What’s wrong with it?”

                “It’s a manual! I can drive stick, but do you know how hard it was? When my dad was teaching me to drive it, he made me start it on a hill. I got out of the car and walked home I was so mad,”  
                “I can see your dad doing that,”

                “It sucked,”

                “You are really spazzy today, maybe we should go get your Adderall,”

                “It takes an hour to work, why do you think I wake up so early? Because I want to? Nope,”  
                “Okay then,” Stiles started tapping his foot and fidgeting a little bit. Derek pulled up to the brewery and Stiles got out. They found a table and looked through the menu. “When do you start your job?”

                “Monday. I’m pretty stoked for it. It pays well,”

                “That’s always a plus,”  
                “So now I won’t have to be mooching off of my dad for gas money. Roscoe is a fat ass when it comes to gas,” Derek laughed. Stiles always loved Derek’s laugh. They decided on ordering fried pickles, onion rings, and a plate of sliders to split. Derek got a large beer and Stiles got some of their house made root beer (Stiles really wanted some of that beer, but he had to wait three more years). When no one was looking, Derek let him take a sip from it. The beer was wheaty and cold in his mouth, and it made his stomach bubbly and warm when it went down. “This is better than the root beer,”

                “Well, it’s because it’s real beer, not kiddie shit,”

                “I’m not a kid,”

                “I never said you were,”  
                “You implied it,”

                “I did no such thing,” Derek tried to keep a serious face and then just burst out laughing. Once he was finished, he turned his attention towards one of the TVs where he watched a baseball game. “Shit,” He cursed, his favorite player striking out.

                “What are the teams?”

                “The Giants and the Cardinals,”  
                “Cardinals huh? They’re my favorite,”  
                “What, not rooting for a local team?”

                “Nope. Cardinals are supreme. They have Yadier Molina, and I’m a huge Yadie fan,”  
                “Well, Buster Posey is also a pretty good catcher,”

                “Mmm, I feel that’s a matter of opinion,” Stiles downed the rest of his beverage and smacked the glass down on the table. “This wedding though, we should seriously talk about it,”

                “Well, who did you want to cater?”

                “I want ribs there. That has to happen,”

                “Ribs, at a wedding? That’s so, so messy!”

                “Yes and?”  
                “It sounds perfect,” Derek said semi sarcastically.

                “Well, you cannot tell me that you don’t want to get one of the barbeque places in town cater ribs and fixin’s and other stuff, doesn’t that sound good? Home-style. More people will come to the reception, well, from my family anyway,” The food came out and they started nibbling at it.

                “As long as the cake can be amaretto, that’s my favorite flavor,”

                “Wine in the cake too?”

                “Yes, and we also have to serve everyone Jacob’s Creek,” Stiles remembered tasting that wine on the night of the engagement. He hummed softly. That was one of the best nights of his life. They continued to talk about the wedding things for a couple of hours and Derek ended up taking Stiles home. When Stiles walked in the door, he saw his dad sitting at the kitchen table, papers strewn everywhere. He had a bottle of Jack Daniels sitting next to his shot glass and filled it up again and he adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

“Hey dad,” John didn’t look up, or even acknowledge his presence. Stiles pulled one of the chairs out and sat next to him, looking at the papers. They were all case papers (of course) and he then noticed the Styrofoam board with pictures, push pins, and string all over it. In the center, was a picture from a car accident and it was circled with a sharpie marker several times. “Do you want to take a break?”

“I can’t right now, I’m almost in a break on this,” Stiles knew his dad was bull headed and wouldn’t say anything, so he shrugged his shoulders and went upstairs where he settled in for the night.

The next morning, Stiles woke up to see that his dad was still contently sitting at the kitchen table (still!!) It was a Saturday, and John didn’t work Saturdays (unless it was overtime, and it was only at night). The board had different strings on it, a few of them green, and it did look a lot closer to getting there.

“Dad, you don’t have to do all of this today, you should probably get some sleep,” John slumped down in his chair a little more and sighed.

“I was really onto something,”

“You can figure it out after you’ve gone to bed and eat breakfast,” John didn’t argue. Stiles neatly put all of the papers back in their files and put the files in his accordion folder before setting it against the wall. Stiles then got out the skillet and started putting cuts of bacon on it as he stirred up a chocolate chip pancake recipe.

“I thought I was strictly not supposed to have bacon,”

                “You need some reward food,” Stiles started pouring small pancakes onto the skillet next to the bacon, taking the bacon off and pouring more pancakes. He put the bacon on a platter and slid it onto the kitchen table as he flipped the pancakes. His dad was fading pretty fast. Stiles quickly started brewing some coffee as his dad slowly nibbled on the bacon.

                “I am so close to this case. There’s the double homicide case, and the rape case, and also the kidnapping cases. All unsolved, but I have a feeling that they are all related to a child labor or sex ring,” Stiles flipped the pancakes and stacked them on a plate. He then poured a couple more pancakes on the skillet, gaining a pretty good stack of pancakes. After there was a few more, Stiles turned the skillet off and sat down, bringing the butter and the syrup to the table with him. John grabbed a couple of pancakes and poured syrup all over them, cutting them into smaller pieces. “I just don’t know why someone would do that. Innocent boys and girls, young, have their whole lives to live still. It’s awful,” Stiles shoved a mouthful of pancake into his mouth.

                “Well, some people are just insane enough to do something like that. It doesn’t justify it though. It’s actually pretty awful if you ask me,” They finished their breakfast and Stiles washed the dishes as his dad went to bed. Stiles then got ready for the day, putting on a pair of skinny jeans, a warm colored plaid shirt, and a pair of converse. He then left and went over to Scott’s house who had begged him to go over there. Melissa was working all weekend, so it would just be them. He opened the door and called for Scott, who came running down the stairs.

                “You’ll never guess what I got,” He said, excited.

                “What?” Scott reached into his pocket and pulled out an E-cig from his pocket.

                “I just got it yesterday, it’s really cool,” Scott took a drag from it and then blew the smoke out in a ring, the white smoke breaking into Stiles’ face. It smelled like mints. Stiles nodded.

                “Nice, it’s kind of like what we did at the hookah lounge,” Stiles followed Scott up to his room and they shut the door. “Did you tell your mom?”

                “Haha, no. She would be so pissed,” Scott handed it to Stiles and he held the smoke in his mouth, the taste of mint filling his taste buds, and he then blew the smoke out before handing it back to Scott. “Anyway, what do you want to do?”  
                “I don’t care. Let’s do whatever, I am so flustered, with school, trying to plan the wedding, graduation, prom, everything is stressing me out,”

                “How about we get some lacrosse practice in. You know games are going to start back up in a couple of weeks, and I want you to come back strong,” Stiles agreed. They loaded Scott’s lacrosse stuff (Stiles’ was left in the back of his Jeep) and headed over to the local park towards the soccer fields. They found an empty one and started setting up. Stiles generally was the goalie for the team, so he practiced taking shots from Scott. He was pretty rusty, but he was starting to get back into the swing of it. He started to catch most of the throws towards the end, and then they took a break. Stiles opened the water bottle he left in the car and took a long swig from it while Scott relaced the net on his lacrosse stick.

                “So, who are you taking to prom?” Stiles said to fill the silence. Scott kind of shrugged.

                “I don’t know. Kira won’t talk to me as much after the whole Allison thing, and I don’t know who I should go with. I think she’s going with someone else anyway,”

                “Have you talked to Malia? I don’t think anyone is taking her. You could go as friends. Just a thought,”

                “I might, if no one ends up taking her. I might go by myself, or not at all,”  
                “Just go dude, you, Derek, and I will have a great time,”

                “I don’t want to be the third wheel to your marriage,”

                “Scott, you already are, there’s no big deal,” Stiles said sarcastically. “I’m just joking. But, I mean, Derek doesn’t even wanna go. I wanna go, so it’s going to be like a cock blocker for him. I guess he had a bad experience at his prom, partially involving Kate, but, yeah. We might dance, but Derek hates dancing, so that will probably only happen if one of two conditions are met: a) He finally gives in to my charisma and charm or b) they play Viva la Vida by Coleplay. That is his favorite song, and one of mine,”

                “Okay, that makes me feel better,” Scott fiddled with his water bottle, tossing it around in his hands. “How are you?”

                “Fine I guess. As fine as possible,”  
                “Well, you’ve just seemed…”  
                “Seemed what?”

                “A little depressed I guess,” Stiles sighed. The noise that came out of his mouth was kind of hurt. He kind of felt a little broken down, well, he was broken down.

                “I mean, things are better, and I’m getting back into the swing of things, but I mean, yeah, maybe I have been a little depressed in the past couple of months, just, putting things in perspective I guess,” Stiles rolled the short sleeves up on his shirt so it looked like a muscle shirt. He sighed and put his head in his hands in exhaustion.

                “I just worry about you, okay? And I’m always here,”

                “I know that Scott. Getting back into things is just gonna be… it’s not going to be easy. It’s already hard. I’m still tired all the time, and some days I still don’t feel the best. I mean, yeah, I might be cancer free, but it doesn’t mean that my body still isn’t exhausted from going through all of that toxic shit constantly being pushed through my bloodstream. It’s exhausting,” Stiles stretched his back and crossed his legs as he sat down on the grass from the tailgate of the Jeep.

                “I understand. Don’t push yourself too much either, okay?”  
                “Alright. I just have to do three things Scott, which is go to prom, do another lacrosse game, and graduate. Those are the main focuses right now,”

                “Understandable,” Scott got off of the tailgate and sat next to Stiles on the ground. They looked at the clouds for a while, letting the only noise come from other people at the park.

                “I want you to be my best man,” Stiles said, he and Scott now lying down in the grass. “And if anything happens again, you’re in charge of my eulogy. You and Derek, sorry,” Scott breathed out heavily.

                “That was the worst and best statement I’ve ever heard. And yes, I will do both, the last one only when the time comes. Just, it’s hard to think that death is such…”

                “Something so obtainable?”  
                “Yeah,”  
                “I know, me neither. Even though this conversation was a little late because of the hospital stays and such, it needed to happen, and I’m glad we cleared the air. Didn’t want to keep anything unturned,”

                “Well, we need to talk to Landon about all of this,” Stiles had almost forgotten about Landon. He was thinking of other things, mostly making sure everything was almost cleared up for his possible demise. “He’s not taking any of this very well at all. He’s also having some issues at school I guess. It doesn’t help,”

                “We will get right on that,” Stiles said, making a checkmark in the air with is finger to show that he made a mental note.

                “How about we get back to practicing?” Stiles nodded and grabbed his lacrosse stick off of the ground and got ready for what Scott was going to throw him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I know, It's taken forever to update, and it's kind of a filler chapter, sorry. The reason for this is basically because the next chapter is going to get a little intense and we needed a break from that, and also I didn't want to jump around too much, that's not cool when we can prevent the jumping around. And ending is planned! Hopefully in the next couple of chapters! This will not be the end though, because I have an amazing sequel planned (if you ask me on Tumblr, I may give you spoilers)


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles faces the hard truth about reality when an incident happens with one of the pack members. The wedding is almost completely planned, Derek's book is about to hit stores everywhere, and a certain sour wolf takes a dysfunctional teenager to prom

After they were done practicing at the lacrosse field, they decided to go over to Landon’s to talk to him. Stiles had been texting him all day and had gotten no response. Stiles pulled up to his house and they sat there for a while. His parents’ cars weren’t in the driveways, so he might have been away. They went to the door and knocked, waiting patiently. Scott put his ear to the door and his face dropped a little. He sniffed the air and then his face dropped even more.

                “There’s an issue,” He said, panicked. He jiggled the knob before breaking it off and opening the door. They ran upstairs and opened Landon’s door. They saw him in his room as he had a hand full of pills and swallowed all of them at once.

                “Landon!” Stiles screamed. Scott picked up the pill bottle off of the ground and sniffed that.

                “They are covered in wolfsbane,” Scott said, dropping the bottle. Stiles was trying question Landon as tears streamed down his face.

                “This wasn’t supposed to happen!” He screamed. “You weren’t supposed to find me!” Stiles patted his back.

                “Call Derek,” Stiles demanded. Scott quickly dialed Derek’s number. “How many pills did you take?” Landon started to cry again and rubbed at his eyes with his sleeves.

                “I took half the bottle,” Stiles’ eyes widened. He looked at the bottle and read on the label. It was Paracetamol. It looked like he had taken at least thirty pills, and if he swallowed them with wolfsbane, it could be fatal. Derek came upstairs and came in. Scott handed him the pill bottle and he read on it.

                “We need to take him to the hospital, now,” They grabbed him and carried him into the Jeep. Derek drove as Scott called his mom and Stiles tried to calm Landon down. They got to the hospital and saw Melissa waiting for them. She barked orders as the other nurses got Landon out of the car and started wheeling him away. Stiles was scared for him. Stiles knew what depression was. Sure, he contemplated suicide multiple times, but he never went through with it, mostly because he knew his dad wouldn’t forgive him and that if he left, his dad had nothing.

                “What are the other freshmen on the team?” Stiles said, a little angry.

                “He’s the only freshman who signed up, but I’ve heard that he is being bullied pretty badly during school hours,” Scott said, concerned.

                “That’s not okay,” Stiles said very sternly. “Does anyone know where Landon’s dad works?”

                “I’m pretty sure he’s an English teacher over at the middle school,” Scott said. Stiles sighed and then called his dad, sitting on the hood of the Jeep. His dad provided Stiles with a cell number and Stiles wrote the digits down on his hand with a pen he had conveniently in his pocket. His fingers struggled to dial the numbers into his phone, and when it rang, his stomach was like a cement block. He nearly chocked when the man answered the phone.

                “Hello?”

                “Um, hey, is this Mr. Smith, father of Landon Smith?”

                “Speaking,”  
                “Well, um, sir, I’m the captain of your son’s lacrosse team,” Stiles could barely get the words out of his throat. “And, well, we went to come to your house to see if he wanted to join us in extra practice, and we found him in his bedroom. He tried to commit suicide. We took him to the hospital, and he’s in safe hands now, the other captain’s mom is one of the head nurses here, and…” Stiles couldn’t even finish his sentence.

                “Oh…” The man said.

                “I’m sorry,” Stiles managed to choke out.

                “I’ll be there as soon as I can,” Stiles hung up the phone and put his head in the crook of his elbow. Derek rubbed his shoulder as he silently cried.

                “Why are kids so mean?” Stiles sniffled. “I swear to god I’m going to find the kids who did this and I’m going to pound their fucking faces in!” Stiles practically screamed.

                “Stiles! Calm down, why are you all of a sudden resorting to so much violence?”

                “Because no one ever did that for me, and if this ever happened to me, I would want someone to care enough to do that,” Stiles said. Stiles seemed stricken with hurt.

                “Stiles, I’m sorr-.”  
                “Scott, its fine. I didn’t tell anyone about it because mine wasn’t that bad, but his? This is out of fucking control,” Stiles shook his head irritably and took a swing at the fender of the Jeep with his fist. Roscoe fought back hard, because Stiles didn’t even leave a dent. He wiped the blood from his hand. “There’s a point that people cross, and, just…” Stiles groaned loudly and Derek grabbed his arms and looked him in the eyes.

                “Stiles, look at me,” Stiles did. “This wasn’t you’re fault,” Stiles shrugged.

                “It kind of was my fault Derek. I should have been there for him instead of worrying about my stuff,”  
                “You weren’t capable of that Stiles, you were sick for almost three whole months. You could barely get yourself out of bed let alone worry about anything else other than trying to stay alive,”

                “I could have done something,”

                “Well, at least we found him. It could have been worse. Stop worrying about how you could have fixed this and worry about how the hell you’re going to be here for him after all of this,” Stiles’ lip still quivered and he took one last kick at the fender of the Jeep before getting in the driver’s seat and driving himself home. He would occasionally wipe the tears from his eyes and once he pulled in his driveway, went straight for the fridge and sunk into his bad habits of drinking. It was a trait he had gotten from his dad. He opened the bottle and took three long swigs from it and wiped his face. He put the bottle back, and went to his room where he laid on the floor and just reevaluated his life. His high school years were probably some of the worst that he had ever experienced and he didn’t know how he felt about that. His head was swimming, possibly assisted by the alcohol, and he did what he used to do when he was in middle school. He crawled out the window and climbed up on the roof. He laid there for a while and then turned on some music from his phone. He ended up settling for the British rap playlist. He tore a small piece of shingle off of the roof and rolled it up into a ball before throwing it off of the house to see how far it would roll down the street. He sighed and threw his head back and laid flat on the roof.

                “Something on your mind?” One of the neighbors asked, walking closer to the house. It was Mrs. Meyers, who had young children and worked as the executive over the power and light district. Stiles used to babysit her kids before they got too old.

                “Just, everything sucks right now,” Stiles said. He was pretty sure she didn’t know about any of the events in the last five months.

                “Well, you haven’t done this for a couple of years, so I know something is on your mind,” She held up one finger and went across the street and got a ladder and climbed it and sat next to Stiles. “You haven’t been home a lot lately, what’s been up?” Stiles didn’t really want to answer it.

                “Well…”  
                “Stiles,” She gave him the look like “if you don’t tell me I’ll push it out of you”. She was a very persuasive person, and he was grateful for her. Every time Stiles was on the roof, she either always came and talked to him, or would send him a text to perk up his mood (and when Stiles was wallowing in deep depression, would find another babysitter) and he had mad respect for her as a person.

                “I guess cancer’s been up. I mean, I was dealing with some shit, and I don’t know,” He shrugged, and she nodded her head.

                “Your dad just said that you had been sick. I hadn’t asked, because I know that you don’t like to be the center of attention or anything,” That sentence made Stiles happy.

                “Yeah, well, I mean, It’s gone, I got engaged, and everything was pretty perfect for like three days, and one of the boys I’m helping on the lacrosse team tried to commit suicide and we found him in his room just after he downed a bottle of pills,” Mrs. Meyers shook her head. “He’s only 15, I mean, he doesn’t need to go through this, and I’m worried about him a lot, because-.”  
                “Because he reminds you of your 15 year old self?” Stiles hadn’t put it all in perspective at that point, but, yeah. Landon was a nearly spitting image of Stiles. Stiles had always thought about suicide, and almost attempted it a couple of times, but every time he would get close to doing it, he would think about his dad, and Scott, and Melissa, and how ashamed his mom would be if she were still alive, and he could never get himself to do it.

                “You knew about those times?” Stiles finally said, his voice cracking.

                “You were really depressed, and I knew after watching your mom pass that you were, for lack of a better way to put it, messed up, but that would mess any kid up. And I would watch every night when you would turn on the light and pull the blinds and pull out your blade and run it down your arm as you looked out the window. That’s why I always wanted you to babysit. Your dad said you loved kids and I thought that if you were distracted that maybe things would be better,” Stiles had never knew someone was watching him, and frankly, he was a bit embarrassed about it.

                “I’m, I’m sorry,”

                “There’s nothing to be sorry for. You were a confused kid in a cruel world. That was me at one point in my life,” Stiles nodded.

                “Thanks for coming on the roof with me, you didn’t have to do this,”

                “Well, I wanted to. And congratulations on getting engaged. You haven’t graduated, have you?”

                “No ma’am. Honestly the reason we did it so fast was because we though I was going to bite it,” Stiles half laughed.

                “Was it that handsome man with the nice car who brought you home a couple of months ago and was all over you?” Stiles remembered. That was the night that Derek almost banged him against the door.

                “Yup, that’s Derek for you. He looks menacing, but he is the greatest person,” Stiles smiled a little bit.

                “That’s amazing. Well, it’s getting late and I need to go take Juliana over to her sleepover, so I’ll see you around,” She waved as she climbed back down the ladder and went back to her house. Stiles released a deep breath and did the acrobatic hang from the gutter as he jumped ungracefully into his window. He used to be a lot better at it when he would go out there almost every single night, but it wasn’t like that anymore, he was over most of that now (thank god). He went back in the house and started playing Xbox live until he ungracefully fell asleep on the couch.

                                ~~~*~~~

                Stiles got up early the next morning to go visit Landon in the hospital. He asked Melissa for the room number, and he went up there immediately. He saw Mr. Smith outside the room on a phone call. He ended it and looked at Stiles.

                “Hey, uh, I just came to see how he’s doing,” Stiles said awkwardly.

                “Well, we don’t really want many visitors, but he’s been asking about you,” Mr. Smith seemed worn out a bit annoyed. “I’ll let you stay for an hour or so, but we have some family matters to take care of right now,” Stiles nodded and slowly entered the room. He knocked on the door to let them know that he was entering and looked at him. Landon sat lankly in the hospital bed. After Stiles had been in the hospital for a couple of months, he was much skinnier than Landon (which wasn’t something to be proud of, the kid was a bean pole). Landon’s face lit up.

                “Stiles,” He said. Stiles nodded. “Jen, can you leave us alone please?” Jen hesitated and then nodded, slowly exiting the room. She closed the door behind her, and as soon as the door lock clicked, Landon started talking. “Why didn’t you just leave me?”

                “I care about you,”  
                “No, like, why did you come?”  
                “Well, I wanted to see how you were doing, and I heard you were having some issues at school,” Landon shook his head and hysterically laughed.

                “Jesus Christ, if you knew what was going on at school,” He laughed as tears dripped down his face. “You could have just left me,”  
                “I didn’t want to,”  
                “WELL, YOU SHOULD HAVE.” He said sternly. Stiles backed away a little bit. “You should have just let me die,”

                “You know why I didn’t leave you? Because I’ve been in your boat. I watched my mom fucking die for five years, and I watched her take her last breath, and that was the only day she could remember my fucking name. And I used to be bullied too, alright?” Stiles yanked up his sleeves and showed Landon the cut marks going all the way up to his elbow. “I know what you’re going through, and it took me a while to stop being sad and depressed, and I didn’t want you to end up like I did, because those years were hell. You are such a smart kid, and you have so much going for you and you can’t just throw your life away now. You haven’t even lived a sixth of your life! You know I used to pray every night that I wouldn’t wake up, that I would just drop dead and not come back, but when you are actually put on your death bed, it’s not very fun. You have so many regrets of things you wanted to do. I made a bucket list, and I didn’t get to do most of the things before I almost kicked the bucket a couple of times, and just thinking that I’m eighteen and have an actual bucket list is awful,” Landon sat there speechless. “I’m not here to throw a pity party for myself, or make it seem like my life is worse than yours, because it probably isn’t, and I understand. That’s all I wanted to tell you. I understand, and I don’t want you to throw your life away like this, you deserve so much more,” Landon had tears coming down his face at this point. Stiles waited for several minutes for him to respond to him, but he never did. “Are you pissed at me now?” Landon shook his head and wiped his face. Stiles then walked out the door. Landon’s parents were standing outside of the room, confused.

                “Is everything okay?” Jen asked.

                “You might give him a couple of minutes,” Stiles said, rubbing the back of his head. “And I’m not trying to be judgy here, but we need to have a discussion,” Stiles then started impatiently rubbing his face and neck, trying to find the words to say. “You know he was being bullied at school, right?”

                “No,” Mr. Smith said shocked. “He had been acting weird when he came home, and he was always pretty down, but I didn’t want to ask, I thought he was just dealing with some stuff,”

                “Well, first of all, you need to talk to him. Whether he’s in a good mood or bad, you need to let him know you care. All of this,” Stiles motioned towards the room “could have been prevented, alright? I suffered from major depression at his age, and my dad was never home to ask me these questions, and let me tell you, if I would have even been able to tell him the things that were going on and how I felt, even if he couldn’t’ve done anything about it, I would have been grateful that he would have talked to me about this. I promise you, 20 minutes a day is all you need to do to connect with him. If he doesn’t want to talk, don’t press him,” Stiles sighed. “I mean, I’m no parent or anything, but these are the things I would have wanted if I had a two parent household and if my dad wasn’t throwing himself into his work to deal with the death of my mom, alright? And I don’t want him to end up like I did. I am still not okay, nor will I ever be indefinitely ‘okay’, and I can’t watch him become what I did. I was awful. Sorry for ruining your day, if you don’t want to talk to me again, that’s fine, I don’t care. I was just trying to help,” Stiles then walked towards the elevator and went back downstairs. He saw Melissa at the front desk.

                “Everything alright kiddo?”

                “I don’t even know at this point,” He said slightly angry. He shook his head and went home. He didn’t hear back from the Smiths, but his dad said that they had moved away to a town closer to the coast. Stiles could accept that. He wasn’t happy about it, but it needed to be done also. A new start was good for that whole family. Stiles tried texting Landon, but his phone was deactivated, so Stiles deleted his number and moved on. He was still pretty pissed off, but he was going to be okay, and that’s all that mattered. Besides, prom was coming up. And graduation. And the wedding. Stiles had finally gotten his graduation invitations in the mail, including the party invitations from Shutterfly, and he and Derek spent a whole day printing the labels out and sticking them to the envelopes. Derek signed the back of them in Stiles’ name so it looked nicer than Stiles’ awful handwriting. It took them 14 hours and they finally got all of the invitations done, to which they were going to put in the mail the next day. The next weekend was prom, and the good thing about it was that he didn’t have to reserve a tux, because his dad had suggested he get a tux for his funeral, so Stiles was just going to wear that. Derek also had a tux for when he first went on book tours and didn’t know that the appropriate attire was whatever the fuck you wanted to put on that day. So that was taken care of. Almost everything was good to go. They weren’t going to rent a limo or anything (too much attention, and limos are cliché anyway) and the lacrosse game was coming up after that, but Stiles wasn’t even worried about it. Who gave a shit what happened? It’s not like he was getting a scholarship for lacrosse, and it was going to be the last game anyway. At least the good thing was that Stiles was kind of over his depression. Yeah, he was still tired a lot, still had his bad days, days where he would want to crawl up in a ball and sit in the back of his closet like a child. He was still mentally and physically exhausted, and it would just take a while to completely recuperate to being a normal, functional teenager. But now, it was prom. Stiles sat in his room as Scott tied his bowtie, Stiles dressed in his nicest suit (they all knew why it was the nicest).

                “Hold still dammit!” Scott said as he adjusted it. Stiles wriggled around and pulled at the sleeves on his coat jacket. He had little cufflinks on the end that he had gotten when he bought the suit. They were cancer ribbons. He adjusted them and Scott finally stopped tugging at his neck.

                “How do I look?” Stiles asked, making the derpiest face he thought he could make.        

                “You look like a douchebag,” Stiles frowned. “No, wait, a dipshit,” Stiles glared at Scott. “I’m just joking, you look handsome,” Scott blew him a kiss and he rolled his eyes. Stiles put a glob of hair gel in the palm of his head and raked his bangs up and messed up the back. He looked back down at his lime green bowtie and smiled.

                “I look perfect,” Scott put on the jacket of the tux he rented and pushed the bangs slightly out of his face.

                “Not like that was self-centered or anything,” Scott snorted, slipping on his dress socks.

                “Narcissistic would have been more appropriate in that sentence,” Scott glared at him. Stiles slipped on his shoes and sat on the bed.

                “Derek’s here,” Scott said, looking out the window. Stiles smiled and ran down the stairs. He opened the door to see Derek, his beard shorter, and looking sharp. He held a corsage in his hand (the same color as Stiles’ tie) and clipped it to Stiles’ jacket.

                “I’m ready to get this over with,” He said casually.

                “C’mon Derek, it won’t be that bad,”

                “Any social event with teenagers has always been bad, is always bad, and will always be bad,” Stiles grabbed the corners of Derek’s lips and pulled up, exposing his teeth.

                “Cheer up sour wolf!” Derek pushed his fangs out and Stiles dropped Derek’s face. “Or not,” The Sheriff came out holding a digital camera, dressed in his uniform.

                “I took off for an hour to take this photo, so everyone get together!” Stiles and Derek took a formal photo in front of the door, and then Scott and Stiles. Then, Derek and Stiles took a picture where Derek was kissing him on the cheek, one where Derek and Stiles were kissing, and another where Derek held Stiles upside down (Stiles practically hanging off of Derek’s arm with his legs like a kid on a jungle gym) and Stiles giving a soldier salute. Scott, Stiles, and Derek then took a formal photo, and then they took a photo where they did a mock sorority pose picture.

                “Are those enough photos?”

                “I need one more,” John handed the camera to Scott and he took a picture of Stiles and John standing next to the door. “There. Okay kid, have a good night, don’t do drugs, and I better not see you at the station at any point tonight. That goes for you Scott,” Scott shrugged.

                “Okay, bye,” Stiles said as he walked out the door and they all packed into Derek’s Camaro. When they arrived to the hotel’s banquet room that the school rented out, they saw that the whole inside room was themed for a Night in Paris. Derek followed Stiles through the crowd of people as they got to the punch table. Stiles sipped at his and then gave Derek the cup, Derek taking a gulp and giving it back to Stiles.

                “Stiles, who’s your new boy toy?” Jenny from Stiles’ Econ class asked.

                “This is Derek, my fiancé,” She extended her hand and Derek shook it.

                “Nice to meet you,” She then left with her uninterested date for the night. Scott found some of his friends and they were dancing, but Stiles and Derek found a table to sit at.

                “You don’t want to dance?” Derek asked.

                “No, not really,”

                “You don’t have to let my disregard for prom stop you from doing all of your prom stuff that you wanted to do,”  
                “I don’t want to do that crap. It’s so cliché and I’m just not a fan of dumb stuff, no big deal,” Scott came running over and tapped Stiles on the shoulder, pulling him away from Derek.

                “I suggested they play Viva la Vida by Coleplay and they’re going to play it soon!” stiles was vibrating with excitement and he pulled Derek out of his seat. Then, the DJ switched the song, announcing it.

                “Stiles, what are you doing?”

                “Dance with me,” Derek listened to the song for a couple seconds and realized the importance of it. They danced in the beat of the song and Stiles looked into Derek’s eyes. He then set his head on Derek’s chest. “I love you so much Derek,” Derek leaned into Stiles and ran his fingers through Stiles’ hair before planting a kiss on his forehead. After the song, Stiles pulled himself up onto Derek and hung from his shoulders, wrapping his legs around his waist. “We can leave now,” He whispered into Derek’s ear. Scott was now sitting next to them. Derek nodded and carried Stiles out to the car, Scott following. Stiles looked really tired, and he kind of was. He had been up all night the night before trying to design a few different wedding invitations before they put pictures in them. He practically fell asleep in the car.

                “Wow, I’ve been waiting my whole life to go to prom, and that’s it. It sucked.” Scott deadpanned with a blank expression. “And next week is graduation, and that’s all just now hitting me. Wow,”

                “I know man,” Stiles said, rubbing his eyes. “My wedding is in like six months,” He laughed a little bit. “Oh my god, I get to wake up to Derek every morning in less than six months,” Reality was hitting the two teens hard, like getting hit with a pitch in baseball. Soon, Stiles would be off to college, majoring in computer programming, and Scott would be heading to veterinary school.

                Derek dropped Scott off at his house and then dropped Stiles off.

                “Come in with me,” Stiles said, tiredly. Derek locked the car and went with Stiles in the house. Derek sat on the couch as Stiles went into the kitchen and grabbed the bottle of red wine that his mom had left when she died. It was brand new bottle. He popped the cork open and poured two glasses and brought them in the living room. He handed Derek a glass and he took it, taking a sip from it. Stiles took a sip from his and set it down. He then undid his lime green tie and unbuttoned his suit. “This is so hot,” He sipped at the wine and swished it around in his glass.

                “Why did you want me to come in with you?” Derek asked.

                “I came up with some designs for the wedding invitations,” Stiles rummaged around the living room and found his laptop and quickly booted it up, the apple sign lighting up. He then went to his Shutterfly account and pulled up the designs. One of them was a paisley design, which wasn’t bad, but it didn’t look like _them._ The next one was polka dots, and it looked really nice, but not as formal, and more fun. Another one was plaid, which, of course Stiles would have picked that. Another one had calligraphy looking designs all over the corners and sides.

                “That one’s not bad,”  
                “I liked that one, but last and certainly not least, my favorite design,” Stiles pulled up the last design which was one with a whole bunch of beautiful designs with a few carnations, done in different shades of blue.

                “That one.” Derek said, pointing. “It has to be that one,” Stiles smiled.

                “I asked Lydia to go to the reserve with us to take wedding pictures if that’s okay,” Derek nodded.

                “What do you wanna wear?”

                “I don’t know. My dad wanted me to either wear Sperry’s or my boots, considering we are having a country wedding,” Stiles shrugged his shoulders. “But I would rather wear a pair of vans or converse or high tops or something,”

                “You should wear that blue Henley shirt I got you. I have one in heather grey and it would look really nice, and we could wear darker jeans. Then, just wear whatever shoes. Something that matches I guess. How many invitations are you ordering?”

                “I don’t know, like 250. We can have extras. I didn’t know how much of your family and or friends were going to come, and I have a shitload of family, so”

                “That should be plenty. I’m not inviting too many people to the wedding, not because of you, just, I mean, you already know where most of my family is. Total, I might have like 50 people coming at most,” Derek shrugged.

                “Well, guess what we get to do for the next couple of weeks?”

                “Jesus, don’t say it,”

                “Write wedding invitations! You’re doing calligraphy, sorry. I’ll do the pretty design shit on the back of the envelope, and did you want to use a wax seal on the invitations? I can do that,” Stiles said, slipping his jacket off and unbuttoning the dress shirt underneath it.

                “Why not, make them look classy. And have you made reservations at the winery for the reception?”  
                “Yes sir,”

                “Have you told your grandma about the wedding that we are having at HER house?” Stiles froze and didn’t blink for a couple of seconds.

                “Well, I haven’t exactly told her about the whole marriage thing yet. I kind of wanted to wait, because the only reason she took the ‘closet’ news so well was because she couldn’t be mad at me if I was about to die, and as you know, things are, well, different where she lives, so...” Stiles traced a circle with the toe of his sock on the carpet. Derek really wanted to be mad at him, he really did, but he was in agreement with Stiles there, and he knew that some families weren’t as accepting.

                “Well, we’re telling her when she comes for graduation next week,” Derek said, sighing. “That’s when we’ll ask Cora about being the sergeant of our baby also, might as well kill two birds with one stone,”  
                “Wait, Cora is coming to my graduation?”

                “Well, you did invite her, and she’s been wanting to visit home and this gives her an excuse to, which is fine by me, she needs to visit more often,”

                “She’s only there for the pack’s safety you know,”  
                “Yeah, I know. The same reason Jackson moved to London, the same reason Isaac moved to France with Chris, yeah, I know. It isn’t an excuse for me to not miss her though,”

                “I know. Well, I’m going to bed, you can stay if you want, but I’m not even going to take a shower until tomorrow morning,”

                “I need to go home too, have some more of that book crap to work on. Did you ever draw up a draft, final copy, something for the cover of that letter book?”  
                “Yeah, I finally have a final copy. I did it on my tablet so it looks all nice and clean, I’ll email it to you before I go to bed,”

                “Thanks a bunch hon, I appreciate it,”

                “No problem,” Stiles kissed Derek on the cheek and Derek returned with a hug. Derek then left and Stiles trudged up the stairs, slowly losing clothing as he climbed the stairs. When he got in his room, he threw on the first shirt he found in his room, and jumped on top of his bed, grabbing a blanket and sleeping on top of the sheets. He didn’t usually do this, but as the weather started to get nicer, his dad was usually in denial about turning the AC on, and he was an air conditioning Nazi, so Stiles turned on his ceiling fan and acquired two more fans which he spread throughout the room. And then, he finally crashed.

                                ~~~*~~~

                Stiles arrived to the reserve with his hair the way he wanted, his blue Henley t-shirt that Derek requested, a pair of black jeans and a pair of gray vans. He parked his Jeep next to the trail entrance and watched as Derek pulled in. Derek got out of his car with a pair of sunglasses, slipping them off and throwing them into the car. He had the gray Henley t-shirt on, black jeans, and navy blue converse, ironically the same color as Stiles’ shirt. They hadn’t planned any of this out. Derek smiled as Stiles got out of the car.

                “Is Lydia here yet?” Just as he said that, Lydia pulled up in her car and parked it, getting out of the car with her camera around her neck and her lens bag around her wrist.

                “Okay, happy couple, I have some great locations to go to, so just follow me,” Lydia lead them into the woods and stopped at this one spot that had few trees and was full of wild daisies. “Sit,” They listened to her. She pointed that Stiles sit on Derek’s lap and wrap his arms around him. Lydia was setting some things up on her camera.

                “Derek?” Stiles asked, batting his shoulder.

                “Yes hon?”  
                “Did you ever take your trophies back from the school?”

                “Trophies for what?”

                “Baseball dipshit, why didn’t you take them with you when you graduated?”

                “I didn’t think about I guess, and I didn’t really want them, especially after the fire, you know,” Stiles shrugged. Lydia was finally done, and she looked through the lens of her camera and hummed. “Why do you ask?”  
                “Saw them in the school trophy case, just wonderin’,”

                “This doesn’t look right,” She bent down and picked two handfuls of daisies and threw them at Derek and Stiles. “Perfect, and I have something funny to tell you guys. So after prom last night when Jackson went to Danny’s house to stay with him until his flight this morning, and Danny’s mom answered the door, and when announcing his arrival, Danny’s sister asked “Oh, Jackson’s here? Is he still a douchebag?” Derek and Stiles were laughing their asses off, and Lydia took some pictures as they did so. “Okay, next place,” Stiles and Derek repeated this process until they got a good array of photos. “I’ll email Stiles the pictures tonight so you can get your order reserved on Shutterfly,” She smiled and got back into her car and left, leaving Stiles and Derek alone.

                “Well, I have to teach piano lessons in an hour back at the music store,” Stiles said, rubbing the back of his neck.

                “Are you enjoying your job?”

                “Oh yeah, the kids are great, it pays well, and not a lot of people come in so I can just fuck around at the counter until my shift is over. Today I’m only scheduled for this lesson, so we can do something afterwards if you want,”

                “How long is the lesson?”

                “I don’t know, about two hours, not long. Probably will be done around three,”

                “Well, it gives me time to proofread that letter book another time. Jesus, this is so much work. I would just have the publisher do it, but this is more sentimental and I don’t trust them enough with any of this shit,” Stiles nodded in agreement.

                “Was that cover okay?”  
                “Yeah, it was beautiful, thanks,” Derek smiled. Stiles then set his head on Derek’s shoulder and wrapped his arms around his neck. Derek wrapped his hands around Stiles, touching the small of his back. They stood like this for several minutes before Derek said anything. “Hon?” Stiles made an uh huh noise. “We have to go to make sure you’re not late for work,” Stiles groaned and held onto Derek a little harder.

                “I don’t wanna go,” Stiles groaned like a child. Derek kissed Stiles, pulling at his bottom lip with his teeth.

                “Just think of all the fun we can have after work,” Derek whispered in his ear. Stiles’ face perked up.

                “Like what?”  
                “I’ll first cuddle you into my bed, showering you with kisses,” Derek started to leave a trail of kisses up Stiles’ neck to his forehead. “Then, I’ll mark you,” Derek took his fingers and drummed them on the back of Stiles’ shoulders and then nipped at his neck, licking the bite. “And the last part will be a surprise,” There were butterflies in Stiles’ stomach.

                “I don’t think I can wait that long Derek,” Stiles said softly. Derek smiled.

                “Me neither,” Derek then walked towards his car and drove away, leaving Stiles there like a dork until he finally zoned back in and headed to work.

                                ~~~*~~~

                Stiles ended up getting to work only a few minutes before he was supposed to. He saw the kid he was supposed to be doing lessons with already there.

                “Sorry, I know I’m a bit late, just, give me a second,” Stiles went over to the computer in the music store and clocked in before grabbing his name lanyard from the drawer. He took the keys on the lanyard and unlocked one of the lesson rooms and then put it over his head, the keys jingling as he walked. “Okay, let’s start with some warm ups,” Stiles flipped through the kid’s song book and found a decent warm up. Stiles’ phone beeped and he looked at it to see that it was an email from Lydia with the pictures which he would have to look at later. He blue toothed his phone to the small projector in there where he had created some lesson plans on his computer and airdropped it onto his phone. He clicked the wrong thing and cursed as the wedding photos started to load. “Crap, sorry Kara,” He vigorously tapped on his phone and pulled up the right file.

                “Who’s that?”

                “My fiancé,” Stiles responded. She nodded and he then continued with his lesson, which was basically explanation of chords. Once it was done, they still had thirty minutes left in the lesson, and nothing to do. “So, you’re going to be a sixth grader next year, right?” Kara nodded. “That’s cool, do you know what instrument you want to play?”  
                “I was kind of leaning towards saxophone, and I wanted to start guitar,” Stiles smiled.

                “Well, if you need lessons for any of that, I can do that. And also you should consider jazz band. It was pretty great for me,”

                “I might my seventh grade year,” Stiles nodded. He sat down in one of the chairs and groaned.

                “What else do you want to do for thirty minutes?” She shrugged. Stiles then came up with an idea. He gave her the one minute finger and then went into the commercial part of the music store and grabbed an acoustic guitar and came back into the practice room. “Name a song,” Kara thought about it for several seconds.

                “Do you know Hey Soul Sister by Train?” Stiles nodded. He strummed some chords and started to sing. Kara joined in at the chorus.

                Hey soul sister,

                Hey, that mister-mister on the radio, stereo,     

                The way you move ain’t fair you know.

                Hey soul sister,

                I don’t wanna miss a single thing you do,

                Tonight.

                The lesson was finally done, and Kara’s mom then came and picked her up. Stiles sighed and then blushed, remembering that he and Derek were going to do things. Back at the loft. That were going to make him probably have to confess his sins to God. Stiles lost his train of thought when one of his co-workers thumped him upside the head.

                “What are you imagining?” Stiles couldn’t even say. He just gave an “enchanted in thought” sigh. “Jesus, is it Derek?”

                “Uh huh,” Stiles practically had cartoon hearts popping out of his eyes. He fair well knew it too.

                “Alright, well, your eyes look like they’re about to glass over, so you should probably tap that,” Stiles stood dumb struck for a while before he quickly clocked out and was practically running towards the door.

                                ~~~*~~~

                Stiles tried his best to be as sexy as he could coming into the loft. Sadly enough, as Derek opened the door, Stiles tripped over his feet and fell on the ground. Derek got on the ground and laid on top of him before picking him up and smashing him up against the wall, the pictures dropping onto the ground. Stiles smashed his face into Derek’s, feeling a stubble burn start to occur on his chin, but he didn’t care. At this point, Derek was pretty much holding Stiles up, his legs around Derek’s waist, and Derek carried him into the bedroom, where he started to strip Stiles. Stiles pulled Derek’s shirt over his head as gracefully as he could before unzipping his jeans and pulling down his boxers. Derek started to run his hands up Stiles’ back as he nipped right behind Stiles’ shoulder blade. He then licked at bite and started sucking on it, making a hickey, and then stared right into Stiles’ eyes. Derek’s green eyes would flash from blue to green, and Stiles loved both colors so much.

                “Hon,” He moaned, grabbing Stiles’ hair.

                “Yes love?”  
                “We need to get going,” Stiles laughed as Derek crawled under the sheets, Stiles following.

                                ~~~*~~~

                Stiles woke up wearing Derek’s boxers snuggled up against the warm werewolf body that was his fiancé. He tucked his head closer to Derek and cuddled into his side. Stiles sure did like Derek’s new bed. He hadn’t really had the time to enjoy it, and the nice thing was that it probably wouldn’t break. Stiles looked down at his chest, with the multiple scars everywhere. Stiles didn’t know why, but he was kind of proud of them. He had survived a rabid werewolf, cancer, and god knows what else, and he felt strong. He also liked when Derek would take his hand and run it down the scars. He didn’t know why, but it made him feel like Derek loved everything about him, quoting John Legend, “All your curves and all your edges, all your perfect imperfections”. 

                “Stiles?” Derek got up and looked outside. It was already really dark outside.

                “Hmm?”

                “Just wanted to tell you I loved you,” Stiles smiled.

                “I love you too,” He jumped on top of the wolf, Derek grunting a bit at Stiles’ unexpected weight now on his chest. Stiles dipped his head down and trailed kisses all the way up Derek’s temple and then kissed right between his eyes. He then tapped Derek’s nose and laughed. “You are so adorable,”

                “I could still rip your throat out with my teeth,” Derek laughed jokingly.

                “Well, then you wouldn’t be getting any kids,”

                “I could get a sperm sample before I kill you, you know,” Stiles looked at Derek. “I’m just joking, and you think I could handle kids on my own? Ha, I want kids, but I don’t even know if I’ll be good with them, they’ll probably want you more,”

                “Derek, stop putting yourself down. I bet your heart will melt once you get these kids,” Derek gave a half smile. “You will be great with them, and you’ll be able to catch up with them,”

                “They’ll have your brains, my athletic abilities and lycanthropy gene, your gorgeous honey brown eyes, damn, they’ll be the most perfect kids ever. Everyone will be so jealous. ‘How did you get your kids to turn out so great?’ Having the best husband in the world is how,”

                “Oh, stop,” Stiles waved his hand in the air. “No, I’m joking, keep going,” Derek laughed and hugged Stiles.

                “That’s why I love you hon,”

                “Thanks,” Stiles made a cheeky smile and then got up. “I have to go home,”

                “Noooooooo!” Derek begged. “Don’t leave me here!”

                “I’m helping an incoming freshman learn lacrosse tomorrow. I talked to his mom about it, because Scott and I have been flyering kids who showed an interest in lacrosse that we can help them learn the basics before camp so it might be a little easier for them when they have scouts from the east coast coming to host a really nice camp, but they expect the kids to jump into the camp having some background and that’s not always the case. Me and Scott did a little practice with each other before going off to this camp, and that kid of helped, but we were awful, and I want these kids to have something, ya know?”  
                “No, that’s fine. It’s just tomorrow though, right?”  
                “Yes, Scott’s got the rest. He’s going to go to the local community college on A-plus so he can stay in town a little bit longer, just to get his basics out of the way before going to veterinary school, so he’s not busy. I, however, need to go tour Berkeley sometime, because, I want to know where I’m going to school, ya feel?”

                “Yeah, it just feels like we haven’t had time for each other lately, and it would be nice to talk some things out, possibly start looking for houses,”

                “God, I didn’t even think about that. Shit, this is all happening so fast,” Stiles laughed. “I never thought I would have to worry about being an adult yet,”

                “I mean, we can wait until you get out of college…” Derek offered.

                “No, Derek, no, we need to start thinking of things like this, because I mean, I want to raise children with you before dementia hits really bad, and it’s fine, just surprising,”

                “Okay hon, whatever you want to do,” Derek petted Stiles’ hair.             

                “Now I don’t know if I wanna leave,” Stiles said, cozying into his side of Derek’s bed. “I’m so tired,”

                “Well, ever since you were granted remission, you’ve been trying to catch up, and you really just need to take a break,”

                “I guess so,”

                “How about after graduation, we try to plan to take a trip, so we can have a break,” Stiles pushed himself up in the bed, leaning his back against the headboard. He then leaned his head against Derek’s chest.

                “We might as well,” Stiles said. “We could go to the beach or something,”

                “The beach sounds nice,” Derek said easily. He then grabbed Stiles’ chin and held it up to his and kissed him on the forehead.

                “I’m not going home, I’ll just get up early tomorrow,” Stiles said, his eyes closed.

                “I have something to show you,” Derek said, getting up. His boxers were low on his hips as he went into the other room and arrived with a book with a maroon cover. The picture on the book was two wolves cuddling together, the title in cursive reading “With Love, Derek Hale” and Stiles felt the smooth, newness of the hardback cover.

                “This is the first copy,” Derek said, smiling. “It’s yours,” Stiles was smiling so big he started to cry. Derek rubbed Stiles’ shoulder and looked over his shoulder as Stiles flipped through a couple of pages in the book and stopped at the dedication page.

                **To my beautiful fiancé, Stiles, to which none of this would have been possible. You’re my sun, my moon, and my stars, and without you, I would be nothing. The past year has been a roller coaster that I have had the pleasure of riding with you. You have made my life perfect.**

“Derek?” Stiles put the book down. Derek put his finger to Stiles’ lips.

                “Every part of that is true,” Stiles shook his head in disbelief. “The cover look familiar?” Stiles nodded.

                “It’s my design, exactly in every way. Oh my god, this is perfect, everything is perfect right now,” Stiles shut the book and put it on the night stand. “Why are you so perfect? Stop it,” Stiles lightly hit Derek and he laughed.

                “Well, I’ve had my shining moments of awfulness, so you need to stop exaggerating,” Stiles shrugged and got up.

                “We should go watch some Orange is the New Black in the living room,” Stiles said, heading towards Derek’s fridge. “Do you have any Snapple?”

                “Check in the back,” Stiles dug around in the fridge for a while and came back with a pink glass bottle. “Fact of the day, did you know that crocodiles can’t stick out their tongues?”  
                “I did not know that,”  
                “Well, I did,” Stiles took the cap and threw it onto the other side of the room. “That was a waste of good air to read that out loud,” Derek scrunched his face.

                “Well, I think every time you talk it is 100% not a waste of air,” Stiles snuggled next to Derek on the couch, Derek taking the Snapple out of his hand and taking a big gulp. “I bought this for you and you haven’t been over to drink it,” Derek said flatly.

                “Sorry, catching up on life,”  
                “What life?” Derek laughed. “I’m just joking, but, that Snapple, it had your name on it and everything, because Peter has been dropping by and eating all of my fucking food, and it was lonely, and it felt unloved, to the point it debated if each of the bottles should just roll themselves out of the fridge and break under the concrete floor, because they would get some attention from the person cleaning up the sticky and glass mess,”

                “Exaggerate much?”

                “It’s a writer’s thing,”

                “Whatever loser,”

                “Loser? I’ve been demoted to loser now?”

                “Yup, sorry, that’s what happens to losers, they get demoted,”  
                “Were you trying to make a joke there?”  
                “… Was there a joke there?”  
                “Loser, as in one who loses, one who has been demoted in some way or another…?”

                “Dammit,”

                “I’m surprised you didn’t catch that one,”

                “Yeah, me too. Welp, I’m making some popcorn,” Stiles went to the cabinets and loudly searched through them. “Where’s all you popcorn?”

                “I didn’t write your name on that, sorry,”  
                “Fucking Peter,” Stiles muttered.

                “I have some Boy Scout popcorn somewhere, I felt bad and bought some from a group of boys at the grocery store. It’s in the camping stuff I think,”

                “Too lazy to find it,” Stiles slumped back down on the other side of the couch. Derek then laid on Stiles, squishing him into the cushions. “Derek, you’re killing me, you weigh a ton!” Stiles tried to push the very largely built werewolf off of him, but it was no use. His legs started to tingle from the lack of blood flow, but he didn’t mind too much. Derek stuck his hand down Stiles’ pants and Stiles allowed him. He always liked when Derek would touch him. It was like his hands knew exactly where to go to make Stiles feel good. Stiles rustled Derek’s hair as he turned on Orange is the New Black.

                                ~~~*~~~

                “Remember to Cradle Will,” Stiles yelled as the kid ran up and down the football field. The lacrosse ball bounced from his stick and into the turf. Stiles sighed.

                “Sorry,” Will said, scooping the ball back up.

                “It’s okay, but remember, eye, ear, eye, ear,” Stiles explained how to cradle the lacrosse stick. “You can’t just run with the lacrosse stick, the ball will slip off, you need to apply some physics to it,” Stiles borrowed Will’s lacrosse stick and did an example.

                “How long have you been doing lacrosse?”

                “Since I was in about eight grade,” Stiles said. “I used to suck at it, and do you know why?”

                “Because you didn’t cradle-.”  
                “Because I didn’t cradle, and you want to make varsity next year as a freshman, right?”

                “Yes sir,”  
                “Then cradle until your arms won’t cradle anymore,” Will took that advice and ran down the field, vigorously cradling, and the ball staying in the head of the stick. He approached the goal and took a shot, it going right into the goal. “That was nice, now let’s try something else,” Stiles reached into his bag and attached pie pans around the outside of the goal in certain areas with zip ties. “Now, hit the pie pans. If you hit two pie pans, I will give you the ten bucks that’s left in my wallet,”

                “You only have ten bucks in your wallet?”

                “Well, I’m a teenager who drives a gas guzzler and is trying to save up money for my wedding,”

                “Wedding? You’re 18,”

                “And you’re 14, so what?”

                “Well, who’s the lucky lady?”

                “It’s a guy actually,”

                “Oh... well, who is the lucky gentleman?”  
                “Derek Hale,”

                “That creepy looking guy who used to work at the bookstore?”

                “Oh my god, I need to tell him that, because that’s exactly what I told him when I met him, and yes, that’s him,” Stiles sighed. “Okay, back to the pie pans, go for it!” Will took a couple running shots at the goal, missing the pie pans (and the goal) completely. He finally gave up and stood at the 12 line and started shooting them in. He got one of the pie pans before he ran out of balls. Stiles shagged the balls and put them back in the bucket and sat the bucket next to Will. He took a couple more swinging shots and finally got another pie pan.

                “Okay Stiles, pay up,” Stiles groaned and fished out his wallet, handing the kid a ten. “I already know what I’m going to buy with this?”

                “I assume it’s not my love and affection,”

                “You would be correct. I’m going to go get ice cream,”

                “Without me? You can’t even get to the custard shop from here!”

                “I have a bike,”

                “Well, Derek has a Camaro, so…” Stiles was running out of comebacks. “And look, there he is now,” Stiles pointed as Derek pulled up. He got out of the car, a pair of maverick sunglasses on and his signature leather jacket. He was actually wearing some color this time, which brought out the green in his eyes, and Stiles loved that.

                “Hey hon,” Derek said, kissing Stiles’ cheek. Will stood there in shock.

                “I kind of thought you were joking,” Will said. That caused Stiles to smirk.

                “Nope. And Derek, guess who also recognized you as the creepy book shelver at the bookstore?”

                “Oh dear god,”

                “Yup, that’s right! Score for Stiles!” Derek shook his head.

                “Your dad’s been calling my place, you were supposed to stop by last night for something?” Stiles had completely forgotten. “We should probably go,” Stiles watched as Will got into the car with his mom, putting his stuff in the backseat and leaving. Stiles then followed Derek and they headed for the station.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You have no clue how long it took me to write this. I'm so sorry. I've been really busy because I went to Hawaii with the school's marching band, and I've also had bad writer's block, and I didn't want to skip right to the end, but I expect to end this story at ten chapters. Good news, there will be a sequel, and I have the plot planned out and everything!   
> As always, feel free to give me prompts to write (or draw) because I literally have nothing going on this summer.  
> K thanks for reading wolfies! How about season 4 though? Lol


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An unexpected occurrence pops up and Stiles is left questioning his life. Meanwhile, Stiles helps get ready for the wedding and the graduation party

Stiles was buzzed into his dad’s office, and he walked in, seeing his dad busy with work.

                “Hey dad,” He waved sitting on the corner of his desk. “What did you want?”    

                “Why didn’t you stop by last night?”

                “I fell asleep at Derek’s, and also, I texted you and told you that,”

                “No you didn’t,”

                “Yeah, I did,” Stiles pulled out his phone and pulled up the text message thread labeled “Pops”. “See?” He handed his phone to his dad who put his glasses on.

                “I never got that,” John said, looking through his phone. “Yeah, no, and it looks like you didn’t get any of mine,” Suddenly, Stiles’ phone started beeping out of control as he got the multiple messages from his dad.

                “Shit,” Stiles said. “My phone’s been acting weird since this fucking update, I might go iPhone,” He said, beating his dumb phone on the desk.

                “Well, that would be easier for me with iMessage, but anyway we have to leave for San Fran, so go home and pack a bag and meet me back here, we’re going to take the Jeep,”

                “Whoa, whoa, dad, hold up, what happened?” John didn’t say anything, he just continued to organize his papers back into the folders. “Dad? Seriously, if you don’t answer me, I’ll have Derek come in and hit you in the fucking face, please tell me what’s going on,”

                “It’s Jeremy,”

                “What happened? I swear to god, you are trying to bead around the bush like you did when you tried to tell me that mom was sick, but you know what? That’s bullshit, just tell me what the fuck is up, okay? I’m eighteen. I have a fiancé, I’m going to have kids in a year. I’m going to be a fucking father in a couple of years, dad, you just need to tell me what the hell is wrong right now!”

                “Jeremy got in a car accident!” He finally screamed back. Stiles shook his head and ran his fingers through his hair vigorously. “He and his friends were under the influence of drugs and his friend was driving and hit a tree. The driver was fine, but it broke his spine and he had a lot of internal bleeding, and it’s pretty bad,” Stiles shook his head.

                “I can’t deal with this right now,” He said, leaving the office.

                “Stiles?”

                “I can’t fucking deal with this right now dad, just, I’ll meet you at home,” Stiles ripped the door open and got in the car with Derek. John came running out of the station.

                “Stiles!” He yelled.

                “Drive,” Stiles said, and Derek peeled out.

                “What the fuck just happened?” Derek asked.

                “My life is so fucked up right now, let me just say, I just want to elope right now, move to a different country,”  
                “What happened?”

                “Well, I guess that Jeremy is a druggie now, or probably always has been, doesn’t surprise me, and they went to drive home from a fucking party or something and him and his friend got in a car accident and he’s in critical condition in San Fran with a broken spine and a whole bunch of damaged organs, so, it’s whatever. I just can’t anymore,” Stiles said, shaking his head. “I didn’t choose this fucking life Derek. I wish that maybe I wouldn’t’ve woken up when I got off the operating table a month ago, because I can’t do this anymore. I can’t handle this,” Derek pulled over and grabbed Stiles in a hug.

                “Yes, you can do this okay? Yeah, you’ve been dealt a pretty shitty hand, and I’m sorry that you have to deal with more shit than anyone deserves, but God gave you this life not to screw you over, but because he knew that you could handle this. I’ll go up with you to San Fran if you want me to, okay? We can do this, alright? We’re already starting to pick up the pieces from the cancer thing, we’re going to be okay,” Stiles hugged Derek as hard as he could, sinking his fingers into his back. Derek patted his back, and kissed the side of his cheek   

                “Thanks,” Stiles said, releasing Derek. “Kind of shitty timing, I’m supposed to graduate on Friday, but at least school is over after Tuesday. Tomorrow and Tuesday are just ‘clean out your lockers and turn in the last of your assignments’ days, and we don’t even have to go to class,” Stiles shrugged. “I’m not packing a bag, and I’m going to have us drive up separately. I can’t miss school, I still have some assignments to turn in, and I think my dad forgot I actually had school shit to do from being gone pretty much all of second semester. At least I know I’m graduating,”

                “That’s all that matters right now,”

                “Yeah, I know right. At least that is the only consistent thing in my life right now, god forbid I not graduate high school,” Stiles laughed and buckled his seatbelt back up, Derek continuing to drive.

                                ~~~*~~~

                Stiles finally made an agreement with his dad. He was going to drive himself (and Derek) down to San Fran so they could get back for Stiles to get to school. John was going to drive up later (needing some time to get some more work done on one of his cases). When Stiles and Derek finally arrived in San Francisco, Stiles felt like he couldn’t breathe. His chest was starting to constrict and he was sure he was having a panic attack.

                “Stiles, stop, you’re better than this, you’ll be fine,” Derek handed Stiles a bottle of water and Stiles drank it. He calmed down. Derek pulled up to the hospital. They reluctantly found a parking and they started to walk in. They went to the front desk and asked for Jeremy Palmer’s room. The nurse told them the number and they took the elevator up. Stiles’ palms were starting to sweat as the elevator climbed higher and higher.

                “Is this how you felt with me?” Stiles asked. “Is this how you felt every time you came to visit me?”

                “The first time every time you came, yeah. I was scared something was wrong, well, more wrong, but then I would see you, your gorgeous face and I would just calm down,” Stiles shrugged and the elevator doors opened. They saw Andrew in the lobby, his head in his hands. He looked exactly like John, except he was obviously much younger. He lifted his head and saw them, his eyes hollow, his face sagging.

                “Hey, Stiles,” He said, giving him a hug. “Where’s John?”

                “He’s coming later tonight, and I had school. He was planning to stay with you guys, and I can’t, because I have school, oh shit, I already said that, didn’t I? Well, this is getting awkward,” Stiles the stopped talking.

                “No, its fine, really, do you want to see him?” Stiles nodded his head.

                “I’ll stay out here,” Derek said, grabbing a seat. Stiles kind of wished that he would come with him, mostly because hospitals freaked him the fuck out, and he hated staying in them, but mostly just visiting someone in one.

                “Okay,” Stiles replied, following Andrew to Jeremy’s room. They opened the door and saw that he was hooked up to multiple machines, and Stiles thought that he was looking in a mirror. His breaths started to get faster and faster. Stiles didn’t want to get any closer into the room. He felt like he was going to throw up. Stiles felt another panic attack going on.

                “Stiles, are you okay?” Andrew asked.

                “Um, um, umumumumumumum….” Stiles started to stutter. Andrew took him out of the room and he dropped to the ground, starting to have a panic attack.

                “Stiles, what do I need to do, Stiles? Stiles?” Andrew shook Stiles.

                “Get Derek,” He said partially quietly. Andrew went running and got Derek. A couple of nurses started to gather around Stiles.

                “He’s having a panic attack, get him some space,” Derek half snarled. He picked Stiles up and shushed him, calming him down a bit. “There are you better now?” Stiles nodded. “What happened?” Andrew was sitting on the ground next to Derek.

                “I-I walked in there, and it was like looking in a mirror Derek. Oh god, you know how much I hate hospitals, you know how I feel about this, and I just, I couldn’t. I saw myself, I saw her, I saw Isaac, Lydia, all of those people who died, and I just… I couldn’t do it.” Derek shushed Stiles.

                “Her?” Andrew asked.

                “My mom. And a lot of my friends have died, and, yeah, I don’t like hospitals. Making one my temporary home for a month was the least bit of a highlight of my life,” Stiles said. “I’m sorry, I don’t know if I can go back in there, I don’t want to have another panic attack, or pass out on the floor or anything stupid, I’m sorry,”

                “No, it’s okay, I understand, don’t apologize. Seeing you in the hospital this last time was killing me too kid, you have no clue,” Andrew shook his head. “Jeremy’s doing a lot better, and we’re just glad that he’s going to be okay eventually, but,” Andrew paused. “I think we need to have a family intervention at one point. I mean, he’s seventeen, he shouldn’t be doing drugs,” Stiles nodded a bit.

                “Well, do you want me to stay?” Stiles asked, getting up off of the floor.

                “No, you are fine, I appreciate you coming,”

“Okay. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,”

                “Stiles, you don’t need to apologize, I promise,”

                “I feel bad,”

                “Don’t,”

                “Please don’t tell my dad I had a panic attack. I’m supposed to tell him and if they get bad, they might have to alter my ADD medication, which they tried before and it made everything worse, so please,”

                “It’ll stay between you, me, and Derek, I promise,”

                “Thank you,” Stiles waved and he and Derek went to the elevator.

                “That was a pretty big panic attack,” Derek noted, tapping Stiles on the shoulder. “Are you okay?”

                “Let’s face it Derek, I will never be okay, right, correct, whatever terminology you want to use, but yeah, everything’s fine. I’m fine, just,”

                “Just what?”

“Just, after you watch someone slowly die in a hospital bed for over two years, you never really like hospitals. And considering the past times I’ve went to the hospital, it’s because I’ve almost died, I’ve been horribly terrified. Seeing Jeremy pretty much hooked up to the same machines as me, seeing it from the perspective of you or my dad or Scott or Melissa, it looked like he was almost fucking dead. I mean, a medical expert would disagree with me, but the longer my mom stayed in the hospital, the more machines came into her room until she finally died. And that’s all I see. And you’re going to ask me, why are you so much more scared when you’re not admitted into the hospital? Well, they have drugs to calm you down, to make you less stressed about dying, because you’re not really thinking when you have so many drugs going directly into your heart through a PICC line, like, it’s so different. You don’t think about how you can’t breathe, or that you’re vomiting your guts out, or hell, even if you’re not conscious, you’re not thinking about anything. Your mind is swimming in a foggy reality, and the only thing you’re worrying about is trying to remember who the fuck is in front of you, how they got there, and where the fuck you are, I mean, it’s just,”

                “No, I completely get it. After the fire, I was so badly burned that I spent literally weeks in the hospital. No one except Laura ever dropped by, but I never worried about it. But when I was actually able to sit in a chair and they wheeled me to go see Peter, I almost threw up. It made me sick to my stomach, because he looked like he was already dead. And my twenty year old self was so confused, and that was before I knew that Kate was the one to burn my family, my childhood memories, and everything that even meant anything to me, like, it was awful. I know what you mean, but I’m also not afraid of hospitals. Or needles. But I still know what you mean. And I’m going to be honest, it was hard to visit you, and I always asked myself how I was even able to walk in there and not break down, but I guess I felt like I had to be strong for you, your dad, Scott. Wow, for a group of men, you guys are really emotional,” Stiles giggled as they exited the elevator and headed towards the parking lot.

                “Yeah, I know, and I think we’re rubbing off on you, softie,”

                “Shut up, I’m still a badass wolf. I’m a BAMF,”

                “Derek, you used to be a BAMF, but you are most certainly not one now,”

                “Whatever,” Derek said. He plopped in the car, same with Stiles. The sun was already down.

“Will you drive home? I don’t really want to,”

“I can, if you would like me to,” Derek said. Stiles handed him the keys and they Chinese fire drilled their way into the other seats and Stiles leaned the seat back. “Are you taking a nap?”

“Yes, I’m really tired. I’m always tired. Ugh,” Stiles groaned. “Remember that Roscoe grinds in two,” Derek nodded and Stiles could hear him push the clutch, because it always made a large clank. Derek threw it in one and they started going forward. “Do you know what sounds really good?”

“What?”

“Food. More specifically a chocolate chip cookie dough milkshake from Steak N’ Shake. With some sliders. And bacon cheese fries,”

“If I see a Steak N’ Shake, I’ll stop,” Derek said. Stiles yawned and curled himself up into a ball on the seat and drifted to sleep.

                ~~~*~~~

Stiles awoke to Derek brushing his hand over his face. Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand and pulled his arm under him and rolled over.

“Stiles, we’re at Steak N’ Shake,” Stiles groaned. “C’mon Stiles, I’m starving, its 11, and we’re almost home, come on hon, get your ass up,” Stiles let out another groan. Derek unbuckled Stiles and opened his door. Then, Stiles felt himself shift as he hit the asphalt, not hard, but enough to wake him up. He watched as Derek let the Jeep back on the ground. Stiles rubbed his eyes and got off of the ground, brushing himself off.

“God, you’re stubborn,” Stiles said, stretching his back, a couple vertebrae popping in the process.

“I’m not stubborn, you are, I’m determined,” Derek replied opening the door. Stiles sighed and relaxed into the red seat of one of the booths. Derek got on the other side. A waitress in a checkered apron approached them.

“Hi, welcome to Steak N’ Shake, what can I start you fine gentleman out with?”

“Can I have a chocolate chip cookie dough milkshake and a glass of water,” Stiles asked, slightly quietly. The waitress nodded.

“I’ll have a diet coke,” Derek said. The waitress wrote their order down and left. Derek contently looked at the menu while Stiles played games on his phone.

“What are you going to get?”

“Well, to be honest, nothing sounds good except what you said, so I guess I’ll get that,”

“Alright, Stiles is good at convincing,”

“No you’re not,”

“I convinced you to marry me,”

“I asked you to marry me, by the way,”

“Oh, so that’s how it went?” Derek shook his head. “Oh, and the wedding invitations shipped, they’re supposed to be here on Wednesday, so I hope you cleared your schedule,” Stiles smiled slyly.

“My schedule happens to be clear. Oh yeah, thank god I accidentally sent the publisher the wrong file a while back, because now I have more time to clear my writer’s block on this next book in the Rocky Fork Murder Mystery series. I brought her mom back, by the way, but I’m kind of stuck on how to get to my next part, and I need to pick someone’s brain,”

“Well, I’m going to need to read what you’ve written so far,”

“But Stiles, it’s unedited. And awful. I want to save you from the awful monstrosity that is my story right now, and actually, none of my books are even that good. I’m surprised that people actually read them. Or buy them. Why would people spend money on that shit?”  
                “Derek, stop, literally, your books are so wonderful, and they’re a breath of fresh air, and it’s nice to find something different. You took a very cliché topic and made it exciting again, and you’re convincing kids to read more because it’s so good, or convincing them to not read anymore because they can’t find anything better. Like, how the hell are you even that good at writing?”

“How am I good at writing? How are you good at music and drawing, and pretty much everything? Why are you like two years ahead in math? I was awful at math,”

“It just happens I guess,”  
                “That’s how it is for me,” Derek stated, as the waitress sat down Stile’s milkshake, Derek’s diet coke, and a water glass. “But seriously, who the hell takes Pre-Calculus as a sophomore, that’s fucking insane,”

“This loser,” Stiles pointed to himself. “Literally, being involved in music helped my math grade skyrocket. There’s even a study about it, and it’s scientifically proven,”  
                “Well, whether they like it or not, our kids are going to be involved in music. I don’t want to pay for college,” Derek said, jokingly.

“You know if the whole cancer thing hadn’t happened, I would be going into college as a sophomore, right? I chose not to take all of my AP tests because I thought I wouldn’t get a passing grade on them and wouldn’t get the credit for college, and that would be a waste of $60,”

“Makes sense,”  
                “But I may be able to test out of the classes, depending on if they let me, so it’s still possible,” Stiles sipped at his milkshake intensely as they waited on their food. “Wow, the most intellectual conversations happen at a shady Steak N’ Shake on the highway, who knew? You want to argue who was a better scientific genius, Tesla or Edison?”  
                “I’m okay, because it is obviously Tesla,”

“This is why I’m in love with you,” The waitress then brought out their food and Stiles immediately dug into the bacon cheese fries. Derek picked up one of his sliders and started to nibble on it. Stiles messily ate his fries and Derek continued to talk.

“So, I haven’t called a caterer yet, but you want ribs, right?”

“Yes. And we should probably have other food other than ribs and cake,”

“How about something like, I don’t know, sushi,”

“Sushi?”

“Yeah, a shit load of sushi too,”

“Kind of random. Not complaining, because I love sushi, but it is a little random,”

“Who gives a shit, we should have whatever food. We should also have like, I don’t know, sliders and fries. Just a variety of food,”

“I like variety,”

“Okay, so sushi, cake, ribs, sliders, fries, and sides that we will decide later. Such as rice I assume, crab Rangoon, sugar rolls, mashed potatoes, mac and cheese, big pickles, because why not, is that enough?” Stiles was now laughing as he wiped cheese from his mouth.

“Derek, you think exactly like me, and yes. We might get little to go boxes, to encourage people to take the food home,”

“Stiles, we’re going to be having werewolves at this wedding, everything will be gone,”

“Fair enough,” Stiles then started on his sliders as Derek ate his fries, getting cheese all over his fingers. “Gimme your hand,” Derek gave Stiles his hand and Stiles licked the cheese off of his hand. Derek then got a napkin and wiped Stiles’ spit off of your hand.

“Maybe I wanted to eat that,” Derek said, eating more fries.

“But I wanted it,” Stiles said, giving the pout lip. Derek shook his head.

“Jesus Christ, you are a child,”

“But I’m your child now bitch, we’re hitched,” Stiles pointed to the ring on his finger.

“I know, and I regret nothing,” Derek kissed Stiles and wiped the ketchup from the side of his mouth, licking it off of his thumb.

“Did you just mom/Melissa me?”

“Maybe…”

                                ~~~*~~~

 

The next day Stiles had to clean out his locker. Considering he hadn’t really used his locker much during his whole high school career and had kept the same locker all four years, cleaning it out was going to be…interesting. Scott said that there was a putrid smell coming from the locker, probably a sandwich or something from freshman year. Stiles opened his locker and found a couple of bloody shirts, which he was expecting, gross food, which he was also expecting, and a whole bunch of old papers. He just threw all of the stuff in a trash bag (he had convinced the janitor to give him, saying that he would need it, and he definitely did). He collected all of the textbooks he didn’t use (but his teachers insisted that he check-out), all of his lab notes, math notes, and theory notes that somehow got pushed to the back of the locker. Once he finally got it all cleaned out, he got paper towels and wiped down the walls of the locker. Stiles was surprised that his locker was so messy, considering he usually kept things decently neat, especially in his room, but at the same time, he rarely used his locker. When he was finally done, he put the trash bag next to the multiple trash cans scattered down the hall for locker clean out, and waited for Scott to finish, whose locker, maybe not as gross, but awfully cluttered. Scott finally decided on just throwing everything away, because it was going to take years to sort out.  Once they were done, they went outside and started a card game.

“When’s your graduation party?”

“Um, I think it’s this weekend, like Saturday. It’s going to be kind of small. Just family and friends. Me and my dad are going shopping for all of that stuff like Wednesday or something, what about you?”  
                “I was going to do mine next weekend, because my mom isn’t really prepared for a graduation party yet,” Scott slapped down a jack from his pile of cards, and Stiles slammed down an 8. He cursed as Scott took the rest of the pile and reshuffled his stack.

“Scott, how in the hell did you get all of the jacks?”

“I was just lucky I guess,”  
                “I hate you so much,”

“Whatever, you’re the one who wanted to play ERS, just saying” Stiles shrugged his shoulders as Scott put down yet another jack. Stiles then put down a king, and Scott followed with a king. Stiles slapped the deck and got a huge stack of cards, including Scott’s evil jack.

“Haha, fuck you,” Stiles said cheerfully, dancing the card in his hand while holding a middle finger with the other hand. “Did you know Jeremy’s in the hospital?” Stiles said as they reshuffled for Speed.

“No, what happened?”

“Well, him and his friends were doing drugs and they were driving home and his friend hit a tree and now Jeremy’s in the hospital with a rod up his back and with a whole bunch of damaged organs,”

“Aye, what the hell?  I didn’t think that Jeremy was a druggie,”

“Yeah, I think that was a surprise for everyone, including his dad,” Stiles sighed. “My dad made me go and visit him yesterday, and I didn’t really want to, but I had a panic attack in the middle of the hallway floor, and yeah, it was bad,”

“That’s kind of weird, considering you’ve been in the hospital for like, I don’t know, this whole year, and you haven’t had a panic attack in a while,”

“Well, I mean being admitted into the hospital and visiting someone in the hospital are two different things. Like, watching someone look like they’re about to die is different than sitting in a hospital bed dying, because you’re so out of your mind, you don’t really think about it. It’s just different,”

“That makes sense, kind of,” Scott said. Stiles counted down and they flipped the cards to start Speed. Stiles ended up winning. Scott then shuffled the cards and set up another round of Speed. “So, I assume they’re not coming for your graduation?”

“Probably not, but now I won’t have to deal with that side of the family. They aren’t the best houseguests, if you know what I mean,” Scott nodded. They then started another round of Speed. “But a lot of my mom’s family is coming in. They don’t keep in contact with us very much, considering they don’t really have a reason to, and also, they haven’t been in town for like, what five years?”

“That’s not true, your Aunt Julie and Grandma Joann came in to see you when you were in your coma,”

“They did?”  
                “That’s what Derek said anyway,”

“Well, I bet that was awkward,” Stiles said, putting down all of his eights in one of the spots. “I mean, what did my dad tell them?”

“I guess everything from the dementia to the cancer,”

“Awesome, and when they come in, they’re going to be all over me. ‘Oh Stiles, honey,’, like they are so awkward about awkward situations. They don’t know how to react correctly, and I noticed that when my mom died. They were between dealing with their own emotional roller coaster and trying to calm me down from my multiple panic attacks, and it just made everything worse,” Scott finished his deck before Stiles and Stiles threw his cards at Scott. “Hey Scott, I have a new game,”

“What is it?” Stiles gathered the cards and put them in a stack.

“It’s called 52 pickup,”

“How do you play?” Stiles dumped all of the cards into the grass, sliding them off the top of the deck magician style.

“Pick them up,” Stiles said. Scott looked confused as he looked at the cards on the ground, and then the confusion immediately turned to anger as he picked up the cards.

“You know I could kill you right now,” Scott pulled out his teeth and growled at Stiles.

“Scott, you have had multiple opportunities, and you haven’t taken advantage of them, so I assume that you aren’t ever, and you are just giving me empty threats,” Stiles stated matter-of-factly. Scott snorted and put his fangs back. “But anyway, I just can’t wait until I have my own place, waking up to my beautiful husband, possibly going to school and raising my gorgeous children, and I am so excited for this. Derek and I both agreed that we want the children to grow up and know me before my dementia gets too bad, so we’re starting early, as in, in the next two years at the latest,” Scott seemed surprised.

“Aww, I’ll be an uncle,”  
                “You totally will, and you will be the coolest uncle ever,” Scott blushed. “You are good with children, so you can babysit, you are rambunctious, and you have the mind of a child, and I assume that won’t change,”

“You are probably right. It’s funny that ever since you’ve been dating Derek that he has turned into a softie, but when you’re not around, he’s still Derek, Derek, you know?”  
                “No Scott, I don’t even know the attitude of my own fiancé, seriously,” Scott shrugged.

“Didn’t know if you saw him through all of the animated hearts that are floating out of your eyes all the time,”  
                “Dude, hypocritical much? That’s how you were with Allison. ‘Oh, no, she’s not going to attempt to kill us, because I love here,’…”

“… Okay, so you’ve made your point,” Scott said. “You know I still miss her,”

“I know,” Stiles said. “We all miss her,” Stiles then thought back to what happened. He was glad Chris didn’t have a large funeral, and just invited the few family members that were left to bury her. For like a month straight, Scott went to her grave site and would just talk to the headstone. The day that Stiles chose to go with him was the day that Scott pulled out a pen from his pocket and laid it next to the flowers that the family had left.

“In case you forget again,” He had said. Stiles almost fucking lost it. It was awful. Then Scott started crying, which Stiles hadn’t seen since he watched Allison die in Scott’s fucking arms. According to Derek, Scott cried a lot when Stiles was in the hospital, but Stiles didn’t have to watch most of that. So yeah, none of them would be the same ever again. They watched their friends die, and that’s not something that teenagers should ever have to do, but it happens. Their parents raised them in a grown up world and told them that they had to accept whatever ended up coming out of life, and Stiles wasn’t pleased with that. I mean, they all grew up knowing that the world was a cruel and unforgiving place, but it never actually clicked until you watch someone get hurt and realize that a band aid isn’t going to solve this one, or that your parents are no longer in the picture to hug you and tell you everything is alright. There was a lot of growing up that went on, and that made Stiles miss being a kid, having no obligations, priorities, or images of how cruel the world really was. That’s when Stiles wasn’t corrupt, or faced with the hardship of what being a part of a conscious reality actually meant. I mean, don’t get me wrong, Stiles really didn’t regret being sucked into all of this, but he wish he was more prepared, and they all wish they were more prepared that their lives would be like… this.

“So, what are we supposed to do the rest of the day? I got here early and made sure all of my assignments were turned in, so do we even have to be here?”

“I guess not, they took role in the first class, but I don’t think they care, you wanna leave?”

“Yeah, let’s leave,” Stiles started walking towards his Jeep, fumbling with the keys before unlocking the door. Scott waited patiently on the passenger side for Stiles to lean over and pop the lock up for him to get in. Once Scott got his seatbelt fastened, Stiles pulled out of his parking spot and started driving. “Where do you want to go?”

“Dude, we should go to the park?”

“Why?”

“Remember when we buried a time capsule there one day after elementary school, and we walked over there because my dad was late from picking us up, by like thirty minutes?” Stiles remembered that day. They had been making these cool collage boxes in art and Scott and Stiles went in and did one together, and every day they had art, they would put some of their most prized possessions inside it and on the last day they did that project in art, they covered all of the pictures on the front with packing tape and sealed it closed before taking it home. They day they took it home happened to be that day, so they decided they were going to go and bury it in the park.

“Do you remember where we put it?”

“Um, I think. I remember I put a jar of peanut butter in there, so I can always sniff it out,” Scott said. Stiles slid into a parking spot in the nearly vacant park. There were a couple of smaller children who looked like they weren’t old enough to start school and their nannies who were sitting at a park bench reading a book, typing on a laptop, or playing on their phone. Scott went on one of the walkways that lead from one part of the playground to another and looked where there was a whole bunch of shrubs growing next to it. Scott then jumped the handrail and into this small opening in the bushes. Stiles went in after him and then remembered where it was. Scott and Stiles weaved through the branches in the bush before they found a large opening in one of them. Scott then crawled under the small opening under the bridge walkway and pulled out the box. It had paper lettering on the top that read **Time Capsule: Don’t Open until Senior Year** and had a whole bunch of cutouts of motorcycles and lacrosse stuff, general things that they would have been interested in.

“Nice, I forgot what this looked like,” Scott took his nail and cut the packing tape off of the sides and opened the box and sat it on the ground in front of them. Inside the box was a jar of peanut butter (like Scott has suspected), Stiles’ favorite N64 game (Super Mario Bros), a few of Stiles’ drawings, some golf balls that Scott had found with his dad at the park, a couple of their favorite books, and these beaded bracelets with their names on them. There was also two pieces of paper. One of them said Senior Scott and the other said Senior Stiles. They were letters they wrote to each other. Stiles started to read his.

**Older Stiles,**

**If you’re reading this, you remembered that we made a time capsule to open about now. Did you ever make the lacrosse team? I hope so, because I’ve been looking forward to that for a while. I hope that you got a bike to ride at grandma and grandpa’s house. I hope you’re still friends with Scott, because I mean, it’s Scott, and Scott is super cool, and did you ever get with Lydia Martin? She was always obsessed with Jackson, so no offense buddy, but I bet you never dated her. Oh well. I hope you really like how you turned out. I’m still trying to find where I fit in, but I bet you definitely found it. Please tell mom and dad hi for me. I know that mom has been stressing how much I get into the music program in middle school and is doing a lot with me, but I don’t know why, but I bet she’ll tell you later. I guess she’s acting off, and dad is concerned, but I don’t really know if I should worry like he is. Anyway, I hope you stuck to staying in the music program, and did you get to play one of the instruments you wanted to play in the band? I bet you got trumpet, or trombone, or possibly saxophone, but I knew you were interested in jazz. I am really excited for getting into high school. I don’t know why, but all of my teachers are trying to test me for the gifted program, and maybe you graduated early! That would be cool if you did. If you didn’t, I have a feeling it was due to Scott. Well, when you go to college, please just always visit mom and dad and don’t forget them. I am proud of you, okay? I bet you have overcame a lot in the past eight years, I mean, I don’t have to explain to you what, because, you’re me, and don’t ever put yourself down, because you don’t deserve to be sad, and if something happens that’s really bad, it’s not your fault (unless you get caught with like drugs or something like that, then that’s probably your fault). And if you’re not Stiles reading this, please return it to him, Scott, or Stiles’ parents, because you have no business reading this and I hope you feel ashamed of yourself.**

**Hoping you have an awesome life Senior Stiles!**

**Sincerely,**

**4 th grade Stiles**

When Stiles finished reading that, he didn’t know what to say. He had forgotten that he had suspected that something was off with his mom, or that he was already having some issues finding friends. And the part that said “Tell mom and dad hi for me” Stiles read again, the pencil that it was written smudged a bit there. Stiles folded the letter back up in his hand and sat down.

“What’s wrong?” Stiles gave him the letter and Scott read through it, his face sinking. “Oh,” He said, his voice small. “I’m sorry, I don’t really know what to say,”  
                “Same,” Stiles said, shoving the letter deep into his pocket. “I forgot about that. I remember. I was so optimistic. I remember that the next day, they took her to the hospital to get tested and my parents told me that my mom was sick, but never explained why. I told her that she would probably get better, and she cried at that. I remember that I didn’t catch onto it until about that summer when she was jumping in and out of the hospital, and I finally demanded my dad I know what was going on, and he told me. I remember, I spend all night researching Frontotemporal dementia, trying to find a cure or something, but there was nothing. The night after that when I was crying was also the night that my dad was drinking and smashed a bottle of Jack Daniel’s into my skull accidentally, well accidentally on purpose,” Stiles sighed and shook his head. “Some life, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Scott sighed. He handed Stiles his letter to read.

**Scott,**

**How are you? It’s been eight years since you wrote this. Okay, here are the obvious questions. Did you try out for the lacrosse team? I bet you made it, but if not, that’s okay, it doesn’t matter too much. Remember when we devised a plan to buy you a motorcycle? Did you ever buy it? Or the electric guitar you wanted? Did you ever learn to play? I bet you were a super cool kid through high school. I know that in high school, there’s some serious issues that happen, and I just wanted to tell you, whether you experienced them or not, that I’m proud of you. I hope that mom was able to make most of your lacrosse games that you probably had, because you’re awesome, and I bet you are a major lady killer, and I bet your life is perfect.**

**Hoping your life is amazing older me!**

**Scott**

“Wow man, that was really deep,” Stiles said, handing it back.

                “Yours was pretty funny,” Stiles said, giving a half smile. “Well, since we now possess the video game that we’ve been looking for, for a while now, we should go play Nintendo 64,” Scott said, smiling. Stiles couldn’t help but smile with him.

                “Okay, let me call Derek,” Scott gave Stiles a look that looked like he wanted to murder him. “I’m just joking. I won’t call him until later, because we need to get started on these wedding invitations, which by the way, do you want to help?”

                “Well-.”

                “It wasn’t really a question, sorry. I need help with them, and you shall help,”

                “Alright I guess,” Scott said. They crawled out from the bush and ended up going back to Stiles’ place where they booted up the Nintendo 64 and started playing against each other. “Dude, you never should have buried this thing, we never even got to beat it,” Scott said, pelting one of the evil characters with a beet he pulled from the ground. “It’s so easy and predictable, well, considering we’re actually playing against a computer compared to actual people,”

                “I know right?” Stiles watched Scott save Princess Peach and end the game, finishing it fairly fast. Stiles saw that there was a box on the kitchen table, seeing it had his name on it. He quickly got a box cutter knife and slit it open, revealing Stiles’ graduation photos for the graduation party (which Stiles was very proud of by the way) and also the wedding invitations. “Scott, get your ass in here right now!” Stiles yelled, pulling one of the invitations out of the package and looking at it, smiling. He showed Scott the invitation, a picture of him and Derek covered in flower petals and laughing, looking into each other’s eyes. The nice thing was that Lydia didn’t use flash, just natural light so Derek’s eyes wouldn’t blind out the photo, and they looked perfect. Scott smiled.

                “We should start calling him the flower wolf,” Scott snickered, taking a good look at the invitation. The other photos included the ones from the waterfall, and a couple of other ones they took, and the invitation was sensational.

                “Well, I need to call Derek, and we’re going to get started on packing these to send,” Stiles said. Stiles then went into the kitchen closet and pulled out another box full of stamps.

                “Holy shit,” Scott beamed, looking at all of the stamps.

                “My dad bought a whole bunch in bulk,” Stiles said. “Your job, once Derek gets here, is to put the stamps on the envelopes and cross them off of this packet,” Stiles handed him a packet.

                “This is like, 16 pages Stiles,”

                “Well, I am assembling the invitations, adding special paper, lace, and ribbon and stuff, and Derek is doing the calligraphy on the front of all of them, so you have the easy job,” Scott sighed. “It’s a good thing you’re my brother, or I would strangle you,”

                “Aww, don’t tell yourself that, you know you wouldn’t think that,” Stiles said, bumping Scott’s nose. Scott growled at him and flashed his eyes. “Okay, alright, don’t do that again,” Stiles started assembling a couple of the invitations, gluing the ribbon and lace where he wanted, making a cute little bow with the blue ribbon, and started making a pile. Derek eventually came over, and jumped right into the calligraphy, having a packet of his own to cross off names. He did them in order, neatly writing the addresses while Scott stuck the stamps and the return address stickers on the sides of the envelope. They worked like this for five hours, and by the time John came home, they were still at work.

                “Do you boys want me to order some food, or go pick something up?”

                “Go pick up a whole bunch of tacos from taco bell, like a party pack, and get the Doritos ones, and also get some queserittos and maybe another party pack of regular tacos, you know,”

                “That’s a lot of tacos Stiles, are you guys going to eat them all?” Scott turned towards John, looking like he was so hungry he was going to maul his face. “Well, that answers that question, I’ll be right back,”

                “And stop by the convenience store and pick up a case of booze,” John sighed. He was okay that Stiles and Scott drank, as long as it was responsibly either at the Stilinski house, or at the McCall house. Stiles pulled a new case of tomato basil hummus from the fridge along with some Frito scoops. They all dug in as they worked on the wedding invitations, getting about halfway done with them. Derek had to take a break to stretch his wrist, and when they did so, John walked through the door, two party packs of tacos in one hand, a plastic bag tucked in the crook of his elbow, and a large case of Mike’s Hard Apple Ale, which was one of Stiles’ favorite, other than the Miller Light Strawberittas that came in a can. Stiles had gotten used to keeping a couple large whiskey bottles (that were now lacking of whiskey) full of wolfsbane water for when Scott or Derek felt like getting drunk or feeling buzzed. Stiles pulled one of the bottles down from on top of the fridge, the label ripped off of the bottle.

                “No thanks,” Derek said. “My handwriting is sloppy when I’m under the influence,” Scott grabbed the bottle from Stiles and poured a little into his apple ale after drinking some of it down. John turned on a ball game in the kitchen as they all dug into their tacos. This game happened to be the Pirates against the Cardinals (Stiles was beaming with excitement, his dad usually only watched the Mets) and he clapped as they caught one of the batters for the Pirates out. Stiles dolloped some sour cream on his cool ranch taco before taking a bite. He had gotten used to just keeping sour cream in the fridge, because why pay for the supreme if he wasn’t going to eat the tomatoes?

                They all finally finished the invitations (and the tacos) at about 2:30 am. There were stamps and return address labels stuck all over Scott, and Derek had ink covering his hands. Stiles had E6000 stuck to his hands, and he couldn’t get all of it to tear off of his skin. Scott crashed at the kitchen table, and Derek carried him to the couch, draping a blanket over him. Stiles started to trudge up the stairs, nearly slipping on the rug at the top. Derek followed him. Stiles started to strip off his clothes, and once his shirt was off, Derek held him close and hugged him, Stiles wrapping himself around Derek.

                “How about tonight?” Derek smiled and pressed his lips onto Stiles’ forehead.

                “Let’s do it,” Stiles sat on the bed and waited for Derek, who was fishing around the bedside table drawer for some lube. He found it and squeezed it into his hand. Stiles waited as Derek slipped on a condom, and then started to line Stiles’ hole with lube. God, he was so ready. Derek stuck in one finger, and Stiles’ stomach was fluttering with excitement. He was also getting a major hard-on. Derek then slipped in another finger, and Stiles was quivering. Then, a third finger. Finally, Stiles felt the blunt tip of Derek’s dick go into his hole as he slid into him, grabbing Stiles’ shoulders for leverage. Finally, Derek was all the way in. He rocked back and forth and Stiles could feel that he was about to come.

                “Derek,” He said. “I don’t think I’m going to last much longer,”  
                “Me neither,” Derek panted. The rocks got faster and Stiles finally came, a sense of relief filling his stomach. Derek pulled out and pulled his condom off, tying it off and tossing it in the trash can. Stiles made his way to the shower, Derek hopping inside with him. It took a while for both of them to get cleaned up, considering the shower wasn’t the largest, and also because Derek blew Stiles, making it take longer to wash themselves off. When they were finished, they changed into fresh clothes (since Stiles had stolen so many of Derek’s shirts, boxers, jeans, etc. he had a large collection of clothing for Derek to choose). They then pulled the bedspread off of the bed (which was a mess) and stuffed it inside the laundry basket, replacing it with the spare he kept in his closet, and they both settled in for the night. As they cuddled, Stiles then realized the only reason he was the little spoon: because he was much smaller than Derek. It hadn’t really occurred to him until then.

                “Derek?” There was a long pause.

                “Yes hon?”

                “I have a couple of questions,” Derek sounded tired, but Stiles was still going to ask them. “So, when are we going to start looking for houses?”

                “I don’t know, I was hoping we could do so this summer, and since the field you’re in would be focused mainly in Silicon Valley, I was hoping that we could get something close to there, or at least close to Berkeley,” Stiles liked that idea.

                “Well, when we get our house, I want it to have a lot of space. I mean, we’re going to have to house a whole bunch of werewolves, and also, to raise children. Yards in California are small, but if our kids at least have enough room to do whatever in the house, that’s all that matters,”  
                “We can do that,” Derek agreed. “What was the other question?”

                “Well, um, why did you choose me?” Stiles asked. “I mean, I had only switched teams after I started just being more interested in guys, but I know that you’ve done a lot of women, so why me?” Derek sighed a little before responding.

                “I mean, I thought I really liked girls. After Paige and Kate, I mean, I thought that was what I wanted, but then right when I got into college, I started getting more interested in guys, but I never had the courage to ever go out for a guy. I mean, I always would shy away for asking a guy for their number or anything, and, yeah. But girls, I mean, they were practically jumping into bed with me. I’m not trying to be narcissistic, but I’m not the worst looking, so to fill the void, I would have all of these meaningless one night stands, where I just didn’t feel the same way. And with Julia, I just felt like she was freaked out, and that she was wanting some attention, and she kind of was, so I gave her what she wanted, but I never liked her too much, but you’ve always been the ultimatum. Ever since we killed Peter, I fell in love with you, and I had this connection towards you, and the only way I could relate it to, was when my parents were telling each other what happened when they met, and they said it was like a bond that couldn’t be broken, and that’s how they found that they were mates. Other wolves can tell too, like I could tell that Scott and Allison were meant to be, and even though now he’s never going to have that bond towards anyone, he’s going to try to fill the void. But, I knew that it had to be you Stiles, I knew that you were mine, and I’m not embarrassed to shout it from the rooftops, because I love you, I always have, and I always will,” Stiles was blushing now. He snuggled his head in Derek’s shoulder.

                “I lovers you,”  
                “Lovers?”

                “I loves you forever, that’s what lovers means,”

                “Well then I lovers you too,” Derek said, laughing.

                “Will you read to me?” Stiles asked, his eyes beaming.

                “I forgot my glasses,” Derek said, Stiles slumping.

                “Make something up,”  
                “Just right on the spot? Make something up?”

                “That’s how creativity is formed, correct?”

                “Yeah, but it’s probably not going to be very good,”

                “Don’t doubt yourself, just start!” Stiles watched Derek bite his lip in thought before he started.

                “Once there was this beautiful fox. He had this gorgeous red fur that was brighter than a sunset, and it was one of the brightest in the forest. He was devious, always stealing things from the humans to support his family. It wasn’t really his personality, but he did so to keep them alive. One day, the hunters came into the forest, and the young fox was curious, so he was bustling about, trotting with his head high in the sky, and he came across a hunter’s hound. The hound growled at the fox, and the fox was puzzled.

                ‘Why do you growl at me?’ It asked the hound, as it curled its tail around itself.

                ‘I was told to,’ the hound responded. ‘It’s not like I wanted to, but it’s what I have trained to do, it’s what my master tells me to do, and I have to please my master,’ the curious, free-spirited fox didn’t understand the hound’s overwhelming obligation to please someone without pleasing himself.

                ‘Well, how about you come by tomorrow about this time, and I’ll show you how the other half lives,’ the hound agreed and wiggled his ears, hearing his master calling him as he left. The next day, the hound looked for the fox and found him in the woods.

                ‘Are you here alone?’

                ‘Yes,’ the hound replied.

                ‘So may I ask, why do you always rely on the orders of a human? Why don’t you do your own thing?’ The hound seemed lost at this question.

                ‘I guess I’ve never really thought about that. I was taught that hounds have to serve the humans,’ He replied

                ‘Well, you are a living creature, like me, like the birds, like the fish, and like the humans, so why are you letting them define your life?’ The hound thought for a second before responding.

                ‘I guess I don’t know any better, and I don’t mind it too much,’

                ‘You don’t mind sitting at their feet, following their orders, killing their food? And while you sit there and they feed you kibble from a bowl, how do you do it?’

                ‘I never think about it, and no, I’m not too fond of that,’               the fox was turning the dog to his side, it’s something that the fox was good at. He was doing it to protect his family, that’s what he told himself anyway. The fox was sly, and witty, much more than the dog, and he was good at convincing the less intelligent. Honestly, he was jealous. The dog never had to worry about food, water, survival, which was all taken care of, and it would be for the hound’s puppies, and the puppies to come after, but why not take a fox? That was why the fox was envious.

                ‘How about you come live with me, and the rest of the creatures, free of the roam of other people?’ The hound didn’t know how to respond. “Tell ya what, you have three sunsets to decide if you want to come live with me,’ the hound accepted and the fox crawled back into his house, with his mother, father, and siblings.

                “The hound went back to the house, and for the first day, he sat and observed all of the things that he liked about his life. He could lie in the sun on the deck, right in front of the glass window and watch the farmer who owned him watch their television set, he could play in the yard, dig up strange animals. He also enjoyed barking at deer that tried to come into the yard, and chasing squirrels up trees, he really enjoyed that a lot. He also liked when the old farmer would come outside on the patio and feed him string cheese and pet him, tell him that he was a good dog. He figured that he didn’t mind being owned by the farmer, because the farmer always took good care of him, and he loved him.

                “The second day, the hound decided that his life was pretty good, and that he didn’t want to go back to live with the fox, and he also knew that the fox was smarter than him. He heard the granddaughter of the farmer talking about what they learned in school, about a philosopher who said that the state of nature was awful, and that you had to give up your rights to a more powerful leader to protect you. The hound was interested in that, and also confused on why the fox had said that his life was so great, because humans said that the state of nature was awful, and there were no rules to regulate anything. The hound then went back to the fox early, seeking him out in the woods.

                ‘You know what,’ the hound started, seeing the fox crawl out of his den. ‘I like my life the way it is, because I have someone who cares about me and keeps me safe, but out here, you have nothing, there’s nothing to save you out here but yourself,’ The hound then went back to the house. The fox was surprised that the hound had the courage to stand up to him, and the fox knew that he was wrong, but he thought convincing one of the farmer’s prize hounds to stop hunting, that maybe life would be easier, but the fox had underestimated the hound’s intelligence.

                “The next morning, the fox got up early to frolic the forest and to also search for food. When he went back to the den, he found that his whole family had been killed by hunters, their blood all over the ground. The young fox didn’t know what to do, it was lost and confused. It didn’t know what to do. He then saw the hound, and the fox rolled into a ball, trying to hide from him.

                ‘Don’t kill me, please,’ the fox pleaded, backing away from the hound. ‘You’ve already killed my family, I have no one, please just spare my life,’ the hound seemed taken back at this statement.

                ‘You think that I killed them? No, I didn’t kill them, that was the other farmer’s dog. I came to ask you if you wanted to get out of the state of nature,’

                ‘What do you mean by that?’

                ‘I mean, would you like to come home with me. We’ll give you meals, a place to sleep, and security, and you can stay as long as you would like,’ the fox agreed to go back with the hound. The hound barked at the door and waited for the farmer to come down the stairs. Once he did, he saw the fox.

                ‘What’s a small fox cub like you doing by yourself?’ He picked the small animal up and looked him in the eyes. ‘Well, how about you stay here?’ And the fox let out a small bark in response, living happily with the farmer.” Derek finished the story and Stiles was smiling like an idiot.

                “That was such a good story, did you just make that up?”

                “Yeah, and it sucked. It had like no point,”  
                “No, it had a very good point, which is the state of nature sucks, so join the communist bear in his campaign for student council,” Stiles laughed at his joke. “Have you seen the Soviet Bear for Stuco signs? They are hilarious, I had a kid in my chemistry class last year who showed me a whole bunch of them,” Derek yawned and threw his arm around Stiles.

                “Well, I think I might head to bed now, I’m tired and it’s almost four,”

                “God, we had sex for two hours?”

                “Yeah, I guess we did, and the shower took a while too,”

                “Well, goodnight Derek, I love you,”  
                “I love you more,”

                “Well, I love you most,” And Stiles clicked the small lamp he had on off and quickly drifted to sleep.


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Graduation! Stiles and Derek go house hunting, and get prepared for the wedding (Well, as prepared as they can be)

Stiles got up the next morning feeling refreshed and fabulous, even though he woke up at like 11 am. His dad had to work the night shift that night, so he was up making breakfast (god bless John Stilinski). Scott was sitting in the living room, rolled up in one of the blankets. Derek was still asleep upstairs. Stiles could hear that he probably got up and was rustling around upstairs. Stiles poured himself a cup of coffee and sat next to Scott on the couch.

                “You guys weren’t quiet at all last night,” Scott said, glaring at Stiles. “I didn’t realize that you like to scream like a little bitch,” Stiles’ face turned red as Derek went downstairs, only wearing a pair of his long sweatpants with a shirt hanging around his collar.

                “I second that,” John said from the kitchen as he flipped some eggs. Derek’s face then turned bright like a tomato. “It’s weird to think that my son is having sex with someone inside this house, considering I thought he would still be a virgin until college,”

                “Dad!” Stiles yelled, covering his face.

                “Just being honest son, there’s never a good father-son relationship without honesty,” Stiles shook his head. Derek quickly put on the shirt and waited at the stairs, not knowing when it would be appropriate to join the rest of the family. “C’mon Derek, don’t be shy,” Derek slowly came down the rest of the stairs and sat awkwardly in the living room. “Derek, you’re a part of this family, so we’re going to embarrass you now,” Derek didn’t say anything. “Derek?”

                “Sorry, just a bit awkward to have your father-in-law talk about your and his son’s sex life,” Derek said. Scott started bursting with laughter and didn’t stop. He was poking Stiles in the ribs, but Stiles’ face looked like he wanted to maul Scott.

                “C’mon son, get your head out of your ass, get over it, and let’s have breakfast,” Stiles was still pissed off.

                                                ~~~*~~~

                It was finally the day. It was the day that Stiles had been waiting for, for almost four years now. He slipped his gown on over his nice suit that his dad had made him wear, and his cap on his head, leaving the spike in the front to sit in the front of the hat. Scott went with the “hair in face” look. Stiles’ gown was a little longer than most, but he didn’t mind it. They then all got in alphabetical order by last name behind the bleachers of the football field (why did they have such a nice football field and not just turn it into a lacrosse field was what confused him, but whatever) and they slowly shuffled out. On the football field, there was black paneling so the chairs for the graduates to sit in weren’t all lumpy on the turf. They all sat in their rows, Stiles not near anyone he knew (really, McCall, Martin, Malehani, what the hell, leaving Stiles at the back of the line with Stilinski). There were a couple of speakers, including Lydia (who was valedictorian, duh) and a couple of others. Then, Danny was asked to stand up, to which he gave a presentation.

                “We’ve lost a lot of kids that were in our class, and it’s pretty devastating to think that even any of us wouldn’t make it to our big day, and I would like to think that they are here with us now. So, now we are going to take a moment of silence for Allison Argent, Matt Daeler, Vernon Boyd, Erica Reyes…” Danny read a list of names from a notecard that he had in his pocket. Stiles counted the deaths. 17. Some of them were caused by supernatural uprisings, a few by car accidents (considering Beacon Hills was a small town but had a major interstate that lead to the tourist cities in California, there were accidents all the time), a couple to sickness, drowning, house fire, and everything in between, and the rest were suicides. Stiles shook his head.

                “We can’t protect everyone,” He said under his breath. Once the moment of silence was over, they started giving out the diplomas. It was going to take a while, considering he was in the S section. Finally, Stiles walked the stage, them calling his name how he said to (He goes by Stiles on all of his school records and in the yearbook, and he made sure that they would call him Stiles onstage). He shook the principal’s hand and a camera flashed as he held his certificate and exited the stage, going back to his seat. Once everyone went through, they were asked to pull their tassel to the other side of their cap, and everyone cheered. When the ceremony was over, Stiles went outside to find his family. He finally found the group, Stiles’ aunts and uncles (not including Andrew or Janice), Grandma Stilinski, and Grandma Joann. Derek was also there, conversing with John. The moment he saw Stiles, he grabbed him and kissed him on the cheek.

                “I’m so proud of you,” He said smiling. Stiles hugged Derek and returned to the group of family.

                “Your dad told me the good news,” His aunt Jillian said, vibrating.

                “Which good news?” Stiles asked, doing his best not to sound like a little shit (most of the time he doesn’t try to act like a little shit, but it’s hard for him).

                “The remission,” She said, smiling. “There’s more good news?” Stiles smiled and looked at Derek. Stiles then pulled his left hand from his side and flashed his engagement ring at them. Jillian’s face was confused. He knew that Jillian wasn’t the biggest fan on gay relationships (and was probably hoping that Stiles was just going through a phase in his life, which was kind of conservative, but whatever) and was definitely not expecting this. “Wow, that’s wonderful, I’m so happy for you!” She said with as much enthusiasm as she could possess. Stiles knew she was probably less than thrilled, but fuck her anyway, it was his life.

                “Thank you,” Derek said, smiling.

                “Oh, Derek, when’s Cora coming in?”

                “She’ll be here later tonight, and don’t worry, she has a ride, but she’ll be here for the party. She’s staying with me,”

                “Tell her to not touch my pop tarts, my Snapple, my little coffee cups for the Keurig, or my booze,” There were some gasps that erupted from the group.

                “He’s just joking about the booze,” Derek said. He knew that Stiles was the least bit joking about that.

                “So, Derek, what is it you do?” Jillian’s husband Jack asked.

                “I’m an author,” Derek said without skipping a beat. Stiles was impressed on how he was being the perfect little social butterfly, instead of a brown recluse that lives in antique floorboards.

                “An author, what do you write?”

                “Well, I’ve been working on a murder-mystery series that has been decently popular, and I’ve also written a couple of books with collections of short stories, and a few fantasy novels, you know,” Derek shrugged.

                “What is the series called?”

                “It’s the Rocky Fork Mystery Series,”

                “You know, I’ve heard of that,” Jack seemed genuinely interested, and Derek had the patient yet not interested into going into detail face painted on the front of his head.

                “He’s also written a book full of letters that were meant for me,” Stiles said cheekily. Derek started to blush intensely.

                “Wow, what a man you’ve got there,” Grandma Stilinski said, smiling.

                “When’s the wedding?” Jillian asked.

                “Well, it’s sometime in November, right? You’re having it in that back field at the farm?” Grandma Stilinski asked.

                “Yeah, it’s November 3rd. We just got the invitations a couple of days ago, so you should be getting them in the next couple of weeks,” Stiles said. The other graduates and their families were starting to clear out. “Well, we should head back to the house, me, dad, and Derek have to help set up for this graduation party tomorrow,”  
                “Okay, well we’ll see you tomorrow then!” Stiles waved as they started walking to their cars, Stiles getting into his jeep and driving back to the house. He saw that Derek was already there. He went inside and saw that Derek was out in the backyard with John helping pitch a big tent for everyone to sit under. Stiles walked underneath the tent and tapped Derek on the shoulder, who was pushing a stake into the ground with his foot effortlessly. God damn, did he look good doing it.

                “Derbear?” he asked, clicking his heels together on the ground.

                “Yes’m?”

                “What time do we need to pick up Cora?” Derek looked at his watch. “We need to leave in 15,” Derek finished the last stake, checked the stability of the tent, and went back inside. John was organizing the shit ton of groceries that he had bought for the party (“There’s gonna be werewolves here Stiles, we need to make sure there’s another food, because your mom wouldn’t be happy if our guest went home hungry” which Stiles had to agree with). “And you didn’t want to go to the senior party tonight?”

                “They aren’t having the senior party. There weren’t enough seniors to buy tickets or help to sign up, and we were all fine with that,” Stiles went upstairs and hung up his gown in his closet and safety pinned the cap to the front of the gown. He then changed out of his suit (wow, his death suit was having a lot of uses, wasn’t it. From Stiles losing all the weight, it still bagged over him majorly. When Stiles was in the middle of putting on a pair of black skinny jeans, Derek came into his room, Stiles pulling his left leg through the pant leg and throwing on a Panic! At the Disco shirt that seemed promising. He then found a nice pair of Vans that he had drawn on (he drew a whole bunch of howling wolves, clouds, moons, and trees and stuff. It was scenic), and then sprayed a little bit of Old Spice on himself.

                “Babe, you don’t have to overdo yourself, it’s just Cora,”  
                “I know, but I wanted to not smell like sweaty suit,” Stiles then hops out of the room to the stairs and slides all the way down the bannister and jumped off at the bottom.

                “That was smooth,”  
                “Thanks,” Stiles then slipped on the rug in front of the door and fell on his face. Derek leap down all of the stairs and hit the bottom, shaking the house, and picked up Stiles.          

                “Come on dumbass, let’s get going,”

                “See you later dad, I might get home late, so don’t wait up!” John waved as he went back to what he was doing. Stiles hopped into the passenger seat of the Camaro and they drove towards the regional airport. They found a parking (it was so far away, that Stiles had Derek give him a piggy back ride most of the way, because Stiles is admittedly manipulative) and waited at the terminal for her to get off of the flight.

                “You know, we should have brought a sign,”  
                “A sign wasn’t necessary,”

                “She’s gonna be mad at you, because she’s gonna think it was completely necessary,”  
                “Just shut up, okay?” They then saw Cora walk through the airport. She had a rolling bag that she tugged behind her and a backpack that hugged her shoulders. Since Stiles had last seen her, she had grown more curves, and Stiles thought back to his more teenager self who would sneak playboys, and he then questioned why he did it, probably because that’s what Scott did, and Stiles was curious, but he was never too interested. Cora’s hair was also a little longer, and her face a little less acne-ridden. She had really grown into herself, and that made Stiles a little self-conscious, considering he was still really skinny and still had these huge hands and feet that never really fit his lanky frame.

                “Hey Derbear,” Cora hugged Derek, her luggage settling upright on the ground as she dropped the handle. “What, you didn’t even make me a sign?”

                “I told you,” Stiles sneered.

                “Aww, Stiles,” She walked over and gave him a huge hug, crushing his sides. He then tapped her shoulder and she released. “Sorry. And is that a ring I see on your finger?” Stiles blushed a little bit and she picked up his hand. “Oh my god, he finally did it! Holy shit, he actually went through with it!” Cora started jumping up and down and screaming, people looking at them.

                “How long are you going to stay?”

                “I don’t know, a couple of weeks. God, I’ve missed you, I would move back, but I have it pretty sweet back in South America. I’ve been backpacking a lot and my Spanish has been getting better,”

                “Good, because it was pretty awful at one point,” Derek said, hitting her back. She grabbed her luggage and dragged it behind her as they exited the airport. Once they got in the car, they got Cora situated in the back seat and started to head back into town.

                “Okay, so I wanted, well, we wanted to ask you a question,”

                “Okay, shoot,”

                “Well, since you’ve been in contact with Derek, and know about all of the cancer and dementia thing,”  
                “Yes, I am aware of all of that,”

                “Hold up, wait, Derek, you didn’t tell her about the engagement?”

                “I wanted it to be a surprise, I almost did, but then you started getting better, so I didn’t, I wanted her to see for herself,”

                “Okay, seems fair, but anyway, we want to have kids before I totally lose it,” Stiles said. “And by that, I mean either it gets so bad I won’t be able to remember who my kids are or my cancer will come back, or something, but we want to actually know them before something happens,”

                “So, what are you asking?”

                “Well, we wanted our kid or kids to have both are genes, which is hard considering we are both apart of the male gender, so basically, we were wondering if you would be the sergeant mother to our child,”

                “Are you serious?” Stiles’ heart stopped and he was ready to roll up into a ball and die. “Of course I’ll do it,” Stiles released a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

                “Oh thank god, you scared me, I thought that you were going to say no,” Stiles laughed a little bit. “I mean, I know you’re only 18, but we thought the sooner the better,” Cora gave her cute little agreement smile and laughed.

                “Honey, it’s fine, I promise. And I think I might have found someone to settle down with, so maybe having your kid would actually help me with motherhood and whether I want to do it or not, but yeah, let’s do it. We can do it as soon as you want,” Stiles was beaming with happiness.

                “Well, you said that you would be here for what, two weeks?”

                “I can just stay here if all else,”

                “I mean, I don’t want to make you stay here for all that time,” Derek said.

                “No, I’m staying here during the pregnancy, but I’m going to have to call Alexandro later and talk to him about that,” Stiles and Derek both nodded.

                “We appreciate you doing this more than anything,” Stiles said, reaching in the back seat and giving Cora a hug.

                “Anything to help my brother and his beautiful looking partner,” Stiles’ face blushed as they pulled up to Derek’s loft. They walked in and Cora immediately started making herself at home, dumping out one of her bags. “Have you gone grocery shopping?”

                “Umm, I’ve been requested to by Stiles… but I haven’t gotten around to it,”

                “I can go out soon, my dad texted me to grab a couple of things,”

                “Awesome, well I’m in need of tampons,” She said casually as she started unpacking her laptop and plugging it in, along with a whole bunch of books (some of them for her online college degree) and other miscellaneous items. Stiles’ eyes widened.

                “You’re joking, right?”

                “No,” She said, pulling out a sweatshirt and pulling off the t-shirt she was wearing, revealing a black sports bra.

                “Well, not like two dudes are in here or anything,” He said, turning his head. Cora threw on her sweatshirt. “Umm, I guess I can get those…?”

                “Great, well, I’m going to bed,” She said yawning and walking upstairs to where the other guest rooms were. “Oh, and there’s a baby name book on the table, I suggest you pick out a couple of names before I wake up tomorrow,” They then heard the door shut upstairs and Stiles still stared in amazement.

                “Derek, do I…?”  
                “Yes, sorry. I had to do it when she stayed at my place when I put her on lockdown. And they’re just tampons,”  
                “Derek, they’re tampons,”  
                “Obviously you have never lived with women, and it’s a good thing you’re playing for the other team,” Derek patted his shoulder. “I’ll let you take the Camaro if you do this,” Stiles’ face immediately perked up.

                “Gimme the keys,” Derek handed Stiles his keys and his credit card. “I don’t care what you buy, but get some real food please, because I’m not eating easy mac,”

                “Derek, I have your credit card, I could buy the ingredients to make homemade mac and cheese, c’mon, and I love to cook, just trust me,” Derek sighed as Stiles left the house.

                “Please be careful,”

                “Don’t worry I won’t scratch her,”

                “No, I mean you, be careful,”

                “Derek,”

                “No, I’m serious, it’s getting late, please, just be careful,”

                “Okay, love you, be back in a bit,”           

                “Okay, love you more,”

                                ~~~*~~~

                Stiles walked into Target with a list on his phone open on things he needed. He grabbed a cart and started pushing it around. He first went to the produce section and got a variety of cheeses and meats, along with vegetables and fruits. Once he got a good variety, he picked up a couple liters of soda, the chips his dad asked for, some duct tape his dad also asked for, and some various snack items for Derek’s house. Lastly, he stared in the feminine products isle. The only reason he ever went down there was because they happened to sell condoms in the same area at one point. Stiles slowly walked down the aisle and looked in confusion at the multiple boxes. He stood in the isle as a woman stared at him staring blankly at the shelves. She looked over his shoulder at his phone, nodded, and grabbed a box, tucking it under his arm. He looked at her, zoning back in.

                “These should do,” Stiles blushed.

                “Thanks,”

                “Let me guess, little sister or girlfriend?”  
                “Kind of. It’s for my boyfriend er fiancé’s sister, she just got into town from South America and practically collapsed when she got home from exhaustion,” She nodded in agreement. She then left and Stiles finally got to the checkout line. The checker was just quickly sliding the items across the scanner, and Stiles thanked god for that, and he threw Derek’s credit card at the cashier. She swiped it and handed it back to him as he grabbed the receipt and grabbed his bags and left the store.

                “See, that wasn’t that bad,” Derek said when Stiles arrived back at the house.

                “Fucking liar,” Stiles said, throwing the box on the couch. “Hope those are good enough for her,”  
                “Me and my vagina both appreciate it,” He heard Cora yell down the stairs. He gave a puzzled look and then looked at Derek.

                “She got back up again so I gave up and just gave her my laptop to watch Netflix on,” Stiles shrugged and dropped off Derek’s groceries.

                “Well, I gotta go home and help my dad finish setting up for this party, and I also need to make sure that he got the correct booze,” Stiles shrugged and Derek followed Stiles out.

                “We won’t have this problem when we get our own place,” Derek mentioned, unlocking the car door. “And I found a couple of places on Zillow for us to look at, I’ll send them to you later,” Stiles nodded in agreement and got in the car.

                “Well, we do need a house. We’re going to have a baby on the way, and also legally wed. I’m so excited, our life is coming together perfect,” Stiles grabbed Derek’s hand that was on the gearshift, and once Derek shifted out of reverse, he waffled his fingers between Stiles’ and drove.

                “I know it is,”  
                “What do you think will happen in the future?”

                “Well, it can only go up from here,” Stiles agreed with Derek. I mean they’ve gone through a lot, and everything was turning around.

                “Everything’s coming up, Waters” Stiles said, quoting the Fault in Our Stars. Derek shook his head and kissed Stiles’ hands.

                “Haha, yeah,” Derek pulled up to Stiles’ house and helped him unpack groceries. They sat them inside and Derek kissed him. “Bye honey, see you tomorrow,”  
                “Bring booze, the last part of the party is going to be fun,” Stiles winked and Derek smiled like a dork before walking out.

                                ~~~*~~~  
                The party started out very calm. Just family, and easy listening playlist on, and everyone casually walked around. Grandma Stilinski came, along with the rest of the Stilinski family (not including Andrew, Jeremy, Genny, and Janice). There were also a couple of people from Stiles’ mom’s side, and they all asked questions, such as “How are you?” “What have you been up to?” “My you’ve gotten big since I last saw you,” and the obvious “So, do you have a girlfriend?” Stiles didn’t answer any of the questions really until Derek got there. Once he got there, Stiles wasn’t as tense and they answered questions together.

                “So, who’s this?” One of Stile’s uncles asked.

                “This is my fiancé,”

                “Fiancé? You’re only eighteen,”

                “Well, I wanna start a life with someone else, and before everything for me just,” Stiles closed his fist. “Crumbles I guess,” His uncle shrugged his shoulders. He couldn’t really disagree. One of his dad’s cousins came up, from eavesdropping in on the conversation.

                “So, you’re okay with going to hell?” Stiles’ eyebrows lifted as he gave a confused face. “

                “Did you really just say that?” Stiles asked. “At my graduation party? Aren’t you glad that I’m happy and not a depressed self-harming little bastard, would you rather I not be happy?” She didn’t answer him. She looked at John to control Stiles and he looked disgusted at her.

                “Sarah, you can’t expect me to side with you on this, okay? So far this has been the only consistent thing in his life, and in a shitty world, wouldn’t you want a little happiness? If you’re going to shun a family member for being gay, then you’re the problem,” Sarah was surprised that John had said that. She then walked to the other side of the yard, leaving Stiles to chuckle a little bit.

                “Dad, thank you, that was awesome,”  
                “Seriously John, that was amazing,” Derek added.

                “Well, someone needed to say it,” After that, everyone started to leave. The family party was only a couple of hours, so when the family left, then close friends started coming. It first stared with Scott and Melissa, bringing beer, and Lydia with Jackson (who was still in town) with beer, and some other close friends. The people who planned to drink gave their keys to John so they would either spend the night (which he was perfectly fine with) or get a ride with someone who was sober. Even though it wasn’t in the right for John to look the other way with kids illegally drinking, it wasn’t a lot of kids, maybe six at the most, and as long as the kids were responsibly drinking and stayed the night or got a ride, then he didn’t care too much.

                Everyone was drinking heavily, including Stiles. He was bobbling around the yard as some people were throwing horseshoes into a sand pit and others were playing beer pong. Stiles opted for quarters. Derek brought Cora over to join in the fun and Derek even loosened up and drank some of Scott’s wolfsbane mix, and started to get a little tipsy. The music was blaring and everyone was dancing, holding each other up with a bottle in their hand, and laughing. It was a good time. The Party Rock Anthem came on and Derek started practically screaming the lyrics, and Stiles joined in, riding on the back of Scott like a horse and twirling his shirt like a rally towel. Lydia stumbled into the bushes a couple of times, Kira was rolling around in the grass, Jackson was crushing cans with his head, and Scott was resting his head in the bird bath. It looked like a nightmare, but the place wasn’t trashed. Even when the group was completely wasted, they still had a lot of manners to attempt to clean up. At about three am, Stiles wanted to go to bed, so he went in the house, dragging Derek behind him.

                “Come on, I want this night to end great,”

                “You, you mean like sex?” Stiles smiled and laughed.

                “I mean, I’m pretty sure I’m wasted, and I don’t want to have sex if I’m not going to remember it in the morning, and you’re so fucking hot right now,”

                “Okay, okay, but am I um… drunk? Yeah, that’s the word, drunk. Am I drunk?” Derek slurred. Stiles was stumbling over Derek as he got into some pajamas and slipped into his bed.

                “You are so fucking drunk you’re a fish,” Stiles started laughing uncontrollably. “Haha, you’re a sourfish,” Stiles then slowly started to fade, and finally passed out cold drunk.

                                ~~~*~~~

                Stiles woke up with a pounding headache and rolled onto his side, now lying close to Derek. Derek threw his arm over Stiles and kissed his neck.

                “Mrrrh,” Stiles groaned, pulling the covers over his head.

                “Hungover?” Stiles groaned.

                “Yes,”  
                “Well, I’ve never had a hangover,”  
                “Shut up,” Stiles pulled his pillow over his face. “C’mon, let’s get up, everyone is gone,”  
                “What time is it?”  
                “Three pm,”

                “Where’s Cora?”

                “Passed out downstairs on the couch. She drank a lot,” Stiles shrugged and got up, his hair ratted on top of his head. “I need to take a shower,”

                “I agree, you smell,” Stiles scoffed and stripped his clothes off as he walked into his bathroom. He got into the hot shower water, and it woke him up and eased his headache a little bit. He washed his hair and his body, scrubbing himself until he didn’t feel like he was gross. He felt sore everywhere, and when he got out, he threw up in the toilet.  He wiped his mouth, feeling much more relieved. He washed his hands and then started to gel up his hair. He then brushed his teeth and wrapped a towel around his waist and went back out into his room. He dug through his drawer and threw on a t-shirt that had stripes on it. He then threw on a pair of khaki shorts and went downstairs and stared making coffee. Derek pushed Cora off of the couch and she hit her head on the coffee table, starting to wake up. She pulled herself off of the floor.

                “What the hell Der? You’re a douchebag,” She rubbed her head, the small cut on it healing up. She got up and hit Derek in the stomach and Derek laughed. “I need to go home and call Alexandro, because we need to decide what exactly we’re going to do with this ‘new idea’ of yours. And I guess Stiles’,” She started walking towards the door, Derek following close behind her.

                “I’ll be back later hon,” He said, blowing a kiss. Stiles caught the invisible kiss and held it to his heart as Derek left the house. Stiles then proceeded to the kitchen where he opened the sliding glass door and looked outside to see that pretty much everyone was passed out drunk on the back lawn. He sighed, grabbed the case of Gatorade out of the fridge, and opened it with a box cutter knife. He then went out the door and turned on the hose. He first started squirting Scott until he jumped up, getting pissed off.

                “What the hell man?”  
                “Dude, you’re passed out drunk in my yard, go home, I wanna go to bed with no one bothering me,” Scott accepted that answer and attempted to get himself up. “There’s Gatorade on the kitchen table, help yourself,” He nodded as Stiles sprayed the rest of the teenagers until they were all up. Within ten minutes, they were all returned their keys and headed home. The house wasn’t trashed too badly and John was already at work. Stiles saw that there were some cards that relatives had left on the counter (even though he told him not to and to save it for the wedding), there was a large pile and Stiles scoffed as he started opening them with his pocket knife. The first card Stiles really enjoyed, because it was a certificate that money was donated to the Boys and Girls club in Stiles’ name. The others had either checks or cash in them, and Stiles was glad he had some cash, but he was getting plenty from working at the music store, and he was thinking of quitting, even though he hadn’t been there long, mainly because he was going into college and didn’t need a job, and with extra lessons and stuff. By the end of it, he had about $3000. He put all the money back and put it inside an envelope and tucked it in one of the mail drawers and lounged on the couch, still exhausted, and turned on Arrow. He ended up drifting off during it, and wasn’t really paying attention, but just watching it for the sound. He heard the door crack open and he snuggled tighter in his blanket. He felt a warm hand rustle his hair and rub his face before he got down on the floor and kissed his forehead.

                “Tired a little bit?” Stiles nodded. “Being drunk isn’t fun is it?”

                “Nuh uh,” Stiles said. He buried his head in the couch cushions and Derek somehow pushed himself next to Stiles and balanced himself on the edge of the couch. “Am I the big spoon today?”

                “I guess you are,” Derek said. Stiles snuggled closer to him and pulled his arm over Derek. He then rested his chin on Derek’s shoulder.

                “You know I got some graduation money,”

                “Yeah?”  
                “Yeah, and I’ve decided that I’m going to use the money towards appliances for the new house, and stuff for the new baby,” Derek hummed in agreement.

                “Aren’t you going to need some of that money for college?”

                “I got a scholarship, it’s no big deal,” He shrugged. He then put on a movie that was on Starz and started to fall asleep on Derek’s shoulder. “You know I love you a lot, right?”  
                “Yeah, why?”  
                “I don’t know, just wanted to tell you that I guess. I mean, even after over a year, I’m still falling head over heels for you and every time I see you my heart just stops for a second and I take it in that I’ve found my true love,” Derek didn’t say anything for a while before he finally responded.

                “Well, you’re my mate. You’re the person that I was meant to be with, and I love you will all of my heart and more, and I just can’t think how my life would be without you,” Stiles smiled and kissed Derek’s cheek and hugged him.

                “I love you,”

                “I love you more,”  
                “I love you most,” They then fell asleep on the couch, and stayed like that the rest of the day.

                                ~~~*~~~

                **4 months later:**

“Derek, did you call the florist?” Stiles asked, pulling pieces of mail from the large pile that was heaping nearly over the kitchen table.

                “Yes hon, the flowers will be here by then,”

                “Okay, and remember we have to go up to Mt. Shasta and get everything set up,” Stiles was squinting as he opened more envelopes. “Shit, I can barely read anything, can I borrow your glasses?” Derek pulled his glasses out of his pocket and handed them to Stiles. He set them on his nose and read through the letter. He sighed and threw it on the table and took the glasses off, putting his head in his hands.

                “Stiles, just calm down, everything will be fine,”  
                “I just, I have midterms coming up, and this wedding and one of my professors just quit, and I can’t finish my credits for this one class, and Jesus I’m so stressed out,” Stiles slammed his head on the table and pulled his arms over his face. Derek patted his back. “Everything will be fine,”  
                “I don’t know, I mean, we don’t have a house yet, we have a baby on the way and we don’t have a place for it to fucking live Derek, and Cora and Alexandro got a house before we did and they just moved here,”

                “Calm down, we’ll be fine. I mean, we’re going to an open house after this anyway, just don’t worry about it, okay? We have this covered,”  
                “Okay,” Stiles breathed, lifting his head.

                “Have you taken your Adderall today?”

                “Yeah, even though it seems like I haven’t, sorry, just a lot to think about,”

                “Well, we also need to get you into the optometrist, because you are blind as a bat, worse than me,”  
                “Yeah, I realize,” Stiles huffed. He threw on a coat and put his phone in the pocket. They left Derek’s loft (that Stiles had now moved into) and drove to the open house in Derek’s Camaro. Derek stopped at a stoplight, the one right next to the Ford dealership in town.     
                “We need a new car,” Derek sighed.

                “Stiles honey, I think we’re okay,”

                “No, we need to start thinking of a child safe car. I mean, the Jeep isn’t safe, and there isn’t a good backseat in the Camaro for kids, we need to think about investing in a new car. Like, a Ford Escape or something,”  
                “Are you trying to soccer mom me?”  
                “We don’t really have a choice, our kid has to get into a good college,”  
                “Stiles, we have 19 years to worry about this,”

                “Just, god I’m sorry, I’ve been thinking about things too much,” The light turned green and Derek turned down a couple of streets and stopped at the house, a For Sale sitting in the yard and swinging in the wind. “I have a good feeling about this one, the front yard is big, it looks nice on the outside, and it has a pretty good garage,” They got out of the car and joined the rest of the people who were inside getting ready to tour the home with their spouses. Stiles and Derek walked in, grabbed a pamphlet, and a glass of juice and joined the two other couples who were there and waited for the realtor to show them around. She wore a maroon blazer and a smile that looked plastered on her face and a little overdone. Stiles took Derek’s glasses and read the pamphlet, Derek chuckling and Stiles giving him a death glare as he read through it. Stiles took out a pen and started circling points of interest as the dumb red cherry in front of them continued to talk about something that didn’t really relate to Stiles nor Derek’s interest and they finally started to move about the house.

                They started with the front room, which was large and had a set of giant bay windows that showed just the right amount of sun. They navigated to the living room which was petty vacant, but had a lot of potential with the right furniture. They then navigated to the kitchen where there was a large marble island and a large marble island and a long bar that was next to the wall. There was a nice chandelier in the dining room off to the left and there was a string of lights that went over the bar. All the appliances matched each other and seemed fairly new (the fridge the same model that Stiles was looking at when he and Derek went to Home Depot to get an idea for what they wanted for their new house. There were also two more spare rooms and a bathroom. They then went upstairs (with a grand staircase similar to the Argent’s house before Allison and Chris moved into their apartment. There were multiple bedrooms upstairs, and Stiles figured out that every bedroom and bathroom had a laundry chute (which was nice and convenient) and that the master bedroom had two walk in closets and a bathroom connected to the room with a Jacuzzi.

                “Derek, this house is really nice so far, I like it,”  
                “Well, I do too, but I want to check out the basement, for reasons I think we both know,” And Stiles knew. If they were going to have a kid, the odds of that kid being a werewolf were about 50/50, and the downstairs had to have at least one unfinished room that was very sturdy and rugged that could survive the tantrum of a child were.

                “Okay, and we need to see the backyard, I mean, we liked that one house but the backyard was practically nothing, and I want a place for some landscaping, maybe a gazebo, definitely some porch swings, etc.” Stiles shrugged his shoulders. The open house tour was going much faster than usual, and they were going to get to the backyard eventually. Stiles was reading through so much stuff that he now just kept Derek’s glasses on his face.

                “You look cute in those,” Derek whispered as they headed downstairs.

                “Shut up,”  
                “You do,” Stiles shrugged and they went downstairs. There was another living room area and another spare finished room.

                “Now, there’s another unfinished room in the back. It was going to be turned into a spare garage, but the previous owners never got around to it.

                “May we see it?” Derek asked.

                “Um, well, I guess…” The realtor opened the door and revealed a large room that was pretty much all concrete except for the steel house pillars. Derek made a pleased face and Stiles nodded his head.

                “This is it babe, I think this is our house,” Derek marveled, his face frozen in memorization as they went back upstairs and viewed the backyard, which was indeed large. The other couples had left and it was now just Stiles, Derek, and the cheeky realtor. “How much?” The realtor took a double take.

                “Excuse me?”  
                “How much do you want for it?”

                “Well, the previous owners are looking at about, I don’t know,”

                “Just spit it out already,”  
                “$150,000?” Derek paused for a second and the realtor’s face fell.

                “We want it,” Stiles lit up with joy as the words left Derek’s mouth.

                “You’re, wait, you do?”

                “Yes ma’am,”  
                “Oh, okay, wow, I wasn’t really prepared for someone to claim the house so fast, but how about I meet you about it, say, Wednesday? Is that okay?”  
                “Could we do it now?”

                “Well, I still don’t have all of the paperwork for you to fill out, it’s back at the office, but tell you what, how about you meet me there in say, two hours? I’ll have it all ready to sign, and the house will be completely ready for you by at least Thursday, but I’ll let you know,”

                “Alright,” Stiles and Derek both shook the realtor’s hand and then went back to the car. “Well, since we have two hours, let’s take you to the optometrist,”  
                “Jesus,”  
                “Stiles, seriously, might as well get you some glasses, we’re not doing anything anyway,”  
                “Fine, whatever,”

                                ~~~*~~~

                Derek typed away at his laptop as Stiles nursed a cup of coffee in his hands. Stiles started unplugging his laptop and slipping it into his bag.

                “Okay hon, I have to go to class, but I’ll be back around three,” He kissed Derek’s cheek and walked out of the apartment. Derek continued to type the rest of his story. He was working on the last book of his series, because he was ready to move on from it and start a new story or series. He was glad that Stiles finally got his own glasses, because wearing contacts and typing on his laptop dried his eyes out. He was smiling, thinking about the new house they were going to have and that just two days before, they had signed the paperwork to make it officially theirs. His phone rang and he answered it as he went through and revised a paragraph of Chapter 23.

                “Is this Mr. Hale?”

                “Speaking,”  
                “This is Jessica,” Derek racked his brain and then remembered that Jessica was the realtor. “The house is all ready, and the previous owners wanted to meet with you and your fiancé later today if that would be okay,”

                “Yeah, that should be fine, is it okay if we meet around 3:30?”

                “I’ll tell the owners and we’ll meet you there,” Derek hung up and texted Stiles to tell him to meet them at the house. Derek then gave up on his creativeness and shut the lid of his laptop. He took his glasses off and grabbed his iPod, putting it in its armband, and then plugged some headphones in as he took off his shirt and put on sports shorts. He then left the house and went for a run, like he usually did. He ran around the reserve for a while, like he usually did. The October temperature was pretty nice, not too cold, and it felt nice to get out of the house. He also had the opportunity to break in his new running shoes. He spent about an hour outside before he decided to come back in, sweat dripping off of his stomach. He grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and sipped at it, and then took a shower, getting ready for their meeting at the house. Derek dug through one of the multiple boxes that were scattered throughout the house and found his nice silver watch that he attached to his wrist (he loved the irony of it) and threw on some nicer clothes. There was something about all of the boxes all over the house that gave Derek butterflies about moving into the new house. Finally, he determined it was about the right time to leave, and drove over to the new house. He loved the address. 301 Allegro Ln. It was perfect, with a music named street. All of the streets had musical names. There was Crescendo, Forte, Ritardando, Largo, and so many others. He loved it, and he knew that Stiles would also love it. When he pulled up to the house, he saw that Stiles’ Jeep was already there. Stiles stepped out of the car, his converse scuffing the ground a bit. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and manually locked the Jeep before waling over to Derek.

                “Hey,”

                “Hey,”

                “How was class?”  
                “Boring, it’s so easy, and ridiculous,”  
                “Well, maybe it’s not easy, and you’re just smart,”  
                “I mean, that also might be a rue statement,” Derek started to walk in the house, the **For Sale** sign now had a red **Sold** sticker on it, Stiles following. They walked in the house and saw Jessica, too big smile and all, and also the original owners of the house. It was a man who was about average height with blonde parted hair, and also a woman, who was a few inches shorter with red hair, similar to Lydia’s.

                “We are so glad that you guys bought this house,” The woman started, a kind smile on her face. “This house has meant so much to us and our children, and we just wanted to pass the love onto you fine gentleman with a housewarming gift,” She reached behind her and handed Stiles a basket full of new dish towels, chocolate, and a nice bottle of wine.

                “Oh, you didn’t have to do this,” Stiles said.

                “Oh we wanted to, we’ve been trying to sell this house for a while now, and we were just about to lower the price,” Stiles smiled.

                “Well, it’s beautiful, and it’s in beautiful shape,”  
                “Thank you,” The man said. “Well, I hope you all enjoy it as much as we did,” The realtor then handed Derek a lanyard with multiple keys on it. Each key had a small tag on it to signify its use. The owners and the realtor left, shutting the door behind them, and Derek started laughing.

                “It’s all ours,” Derek yelled, it echoing in the house. “It’s all ours, forever!” He then got on the floor with Stiles, and they looked up at the ceiling, another chandelier hanging from the ceiling.

                “Can we move our stuff in tomorrow?” Stiles asked, setting his head on Derek’s chest.

                “Why wait for tomorrow? We’ll get all the stuff in tonight,” Stiles smiled that goofy smile of his. “And tomorrow we’ll buy the paint, and the furniture for the living room, and we’ll buy a crib for the baby, and we’ll make it perfect. And Cora goes to the gynecologist to figure out the gender on Thursday,”  
                “We still don’t have any names,”  
                “Well, we’ll go through that baby name book tonight and start tabbing our favorites,”

                “Okay,” They let the house ring silent for a while. “I just realized something,”

                “What’s that hon?”

                “We need to call to get the power and water turned on,” Derek’s eyes opened really wide and a thump noise went off in his head. So maybe it would be a couple of days.

                                ~~~*~~~            

                Stiles unlocked the door to his dad’s house and walked in. He heard movement from the living room and assumed that he was camped out there with a bowl of chips watching a series on Netflix. He was correct. He turned around and looked at Stiles, confused.

                “What are you doing here son?”

                “Just wanted to grab some of my things, Derek and I finally bought a house, and we’re going to move in in a couple of days, so, and, yeah,”

                “Well, that’s awesome. How’s college?”

                “Eh, its college I guess, I’m bored all the time,”

                “I’ve seen that you’ve accumulated a pair of spectacles,”  
                “Oh, yeah, I guess I can’t see worth shit anymore,” Stiles laughed and John joined in.

                “Well, sorry, you have my eyes,”

                “I know I do,” Stiles shrugged his shoulders. “And if you want to come by and see the new house, I’ll text you the address. And also we find out the gender of the baby soon,” Stiles was smiling and shaking his shoulders. “So that’s pretty exciting,”

                “It is,” John said, smiling. He looked tired.

                “Hey, dad, is something wrong?” He rubbed his eyes and sighed.

                “Just a long shift last night,” Stiles looked at his dad’s hands. John always had a tale tell sign when he would lie. He noticed that his dad didn’t have his ring on his finger.

                “Where’s your ring?” John looked down and his face sunk a little bit. “I lost it last night. It just, slipped off my finger, and I’ve been trying to find it. It has to be in the cruiser somewhere, but I can’t find it worth a shit, and it makes me kind of mad, and our anniversary is coming up, and I just really wanna find it,” He had aggression in his voice. Stiles felt really bad.

                “Well, shit dad, if I see it, I’ll let you know, okay?”

                “Thank you Stiles,” Stiles headed upstairs and started packing the rest of his stuff. He started with his desk computer, which was already put back in its original box, and then he started to put all of the things on his corkboard into a box. He found his old bucket list, snickered a little, and shoved it deep into his pocket. He then grabbed the books on his shelf, and the rest of the clothes that he had left, and his box of “random yet not so random unmentionable” things, and then headed back downstairs.

                “Dad, gimme your keys,” Stiles said, setting his stuff down.

                “Why?”

                “I’m gonna search for your ring,”  
                “Really Stiles, you don’t-.”  
                “No, I do dad, seriously, it’s important to me too,” John sighed, dropping the keys into Stiles’ palm and he went outside. He searched the whole passenger seat in the front, including the glove box. He didn’t check the back, knowing that there was no way it could’ve snuck its way past the wall between the front and back. He then checked the whole front seat, and still couldn’t find it. His last resort was the cup holders, where he only found a couple of quarters. He then sat, defeated, and finally looked at the dash. He then found where a panel under the radio didn’t set perfectly with the rest of the dash. He pulled at the panel and it opened to an ash tray, and laying in the ash tray was the ring. It must’ve slipped through the crack.

                “Guess what I found?” Stiles said, walking into the living room. He handed his dad the ring and his face lit up.

                “Thanks kid, I knew that you could find it,” He smiled.

                “No problem. Well, I’m going to get my stuff and head out,”  
                “Oh, by the way, have you picked out any names for the baby?”

                “Kind of…? No, not really. We’re working on it,” John got up and gave Stiles the “one second” finger and went into his office. After a long time of cabinet banging, John came back and gave Stiles an envelope with his name on it, written in his mother’s handwriting. Seeing it was kind of a punch in the gut.

                “This may give you some ideas. Your mom always had all of these names picked out in case we had more kids, because you were obviously going to be named after grandpa, so yeah. I love you kid,” John embraced Stiles in a large hug and patted his back. “You’re my world,”  
                “I love you too dad,”  
                “I’m so glad you’re happy,”

                “Thank you,” They finally released their hug and Stiles waved his goodbyes as he shoved all of the stuff into the back of the Jeep.

                “Wait, when did you buy the house?” John asked from the doorway.

                “We got the keys earlier today,” Stiles said, slamming the back window. “And you better visit a lot, the house isn’t in town, it’s in the next town over,”

                “The next town over?”  
                “Yeah, Mountain Springs, it’s closer to where Derek’s apartment is, well, kind of. About as close as it can be, considering it’s in, yeah,” Stiles knew he was rambling a bit.

                “Wow, my boy’s moving away from me,”

                “Well, I moved out like four months ago dad,”  
                “No, I mean away,”

                “I’ll visit,”

                “Just to get out of parking tickets,” Stiles ran back over to the door and hugged John.

                “Dad, I mean, I probably will, but no, you’re important to me, I wouldn’t just leave you to eat take out every night,”

                “We did that already,”

                “Well, okay, that’s true, but I was also too lazy to cook, so…”  
                “At least you’re honest,” Stiles raised his eyebrows and smirked.

                “Well, I gotta get going now, I’ll come back soon, mostly because I need to get some more stuff, but see you later!” Stiles drove to the new house, which took about forty minutes. He was pretty tired of driving, and it was getting late, but he just wanted to drop this stuff off. He finally got to Allegro Lane and pulled up to the house, a mover’s truck parked in the driveway. He pulled open the door to see Derek loading in furniture.

                “We should get some rugs so we don’t scratch the hardwood,”

                “Yeah, probably,” Stiles sat his box down and watched as Derek lifted his couch and arranged it in the room. Stiles pulled the piece of paper from his pocket and reread it.

1)            ~~Race dirt bikes down at the track~~

2)            Write another song

3)            Play at least one more game of lacrosse with my team

4)            Go to the beach

5)            Go to Disney Land

6)            Take a trip to Oregon

7)            Go to prom

8)            Submit an art portfolio

9)            Have a picnic (with a certain Sourwolf)

10)          ~~Get a tattoo~~

11)          Go to the city with my friends

12)          ~~Go to a party~~

13)          Write notes on a balloon and release it into the air

14)          ~~Tour Berkeley~~

15)          ~~Go floating and camping~~

16)          ~~Venture off in the woods~~

17)          Write a message in a bottle

18)          Go back to the pier

19)          Spend a weekend in San Francisco

20)          ~~Go back to the Stilinski farm~~

21)          Make a CD of memorable songs

22)          ~~Make a time capsule~~

23)          ~~Marry Derek Hale~~

                Stiles chuckled and Derek came over to look over his shoulder.

                “Is that your bucket list?”

                “Yeah, I found it when I was at my dad’s getting some stuff,” Stiles traced his thumb over the pencil lead on the paper. “Won’t need it now,” He went to the kitchen and shoved it down the sink, turning on the garbage disposal and running water.

                “Feel better?”

                “Much,”

                                ~~~*~~~

                It was finally the day, the day they were all anticipating. Stiles’ hands were shaking as he looked in the mirror in the bathroom, combing his hair up with his fingers. He fidgeted and fumbled with buttoning his suit up. He had a bright blue flower pinned to the suit jacket and a blue bowtie which wasn’t tied. He left the bathroom to see Scott, standing in his grandma’s living room, wearing an identical outfit with a green flower and regular tie.

                “Hey are you excited?”  
                “I feel like I’m going to vomit,” Stiles said, struggling to tie his tie.

                “Come here,” Stiles sighed and sat down on the couch and Derek tied the bowtie. Stiles nervously played with the engagement ring on his finger. “Dude, it’ll all be fine. The ceremony will be over before you know it, and then you can just calm down and eat all the awesome food you got and sneak some booze, and then in a couple of weeks, you’ll be off on your honeymoon. Where are you going again?”

                “We’re taking a Disney cruise to Hawaii, and we’re going to hang around Waikiki Beach,” Stiles was still shaking.

                “See? It’ll all be fine. The rehearsal dinner went fine last night. Everything will be fine,” Stiles pulled the vows he had written out of his pocket. The corners were bent, and Stiles’ OCD was bouncing off of the walls. Stiles was also wishing he would have taken more Adderall because his brain was swimming and he was getting more and more stressed out. He pushed his glasses up and read the vows to himself as Scott sat next to him and released a deep breath before awkwardly laying across Stiles’ lap, in a demanding attention sort of way. “Stiles, stop worrying,”

                “I’m not worrying,”

                “You smell like anxiety, your heart rate is through the roof, and you’re sweating buckets,”  
                “Am not,” Stiles immediately pulled out his phone and switched it to the front facing camera to see that there was sweat pouring off of his face. He immediately took the handkerchief that he had also in his pocket and wiped his face. “Okay, so I might be a little stressed,”  
                “That is an understatement,” Scott scoffed.

                “Shut up, I just want everything to go perfectly, is that so wrong?”

                “No, I guess not, but according to the sound outside, the wedding is starting, so you should probably make your way downstairs, and I need to leave,” Stiles and Scott bounded down the stairs and Stiles waited patiently inside as Scott ran outside, straightening his tie. Stiles then went outside and walked towards the barn. He was going to wait there until he was told to go by his dad and the rest of the family. He saw the row of people start to walk towards the set of chairs they had set up in the back field. John patted his shoulder and he looked up.

                “Proud of you,”

                “Thanks,” Stiles said, his hands still shaking. His dad started to leave and Stiles watched as the close family members found their seats in the front row. Stiles then started to walk down the aisle. He was walking a little faster than he probably should have, but once he saw Derek’s nervous face, he felt a little comfort. Their eyes met and it was like a bucket of relief poured over both of them and Stiles cracked a smile, as well as Derek. Stiles finally got up to the alter, under the flower walkway, and with encouragement from Scott (which involved a shove), Derek took a few steps forward towards Stiles and they grabbed each other’s hands. The pastor talked and Stiles wasn’t really listening, hands shaking. He finally zoned back in when he saw that Derek fished in his pocket for the rings, and slipped Stiles’ engagement ring off and replaced it with a larger, even shiner ring. Derek did the same to himself and Stiles felt in his pocket for his vows.

                “The spouses will now read their written vows,” Stiles froze a little and pulled the notecards out of his pocket and cleared his throat.

                “Um, well, Derek, ever since I met you, I always had this dumb high school crush on you. I mean, I never admitted it to anyone, hell, I didn’t want to even tell myself that I had feelings for you, because I was always afraid of commitment, afraid that nothing would last and that when I would find something, it would just go away, so I was scared for my life, but then after a couple of years when I noticed we stared having the same feelings, I decided to take my chances, and I have to say, for a person who is good at making awful decisions most of the time, it was the best decision I ever made, because I don’t think I could live without you,” Stiles dropped the cards and cursed under his breath. He left the cards on the floor and continued what he was saying. “And these past couple of years have been amazing, even when we haven’t been put in the best situations, and even when I was on my death bed, you were always there, and for that I am grateful, and I will always love you,” He finished and awes cooed across the whole audience. It was then Derek’s turn. He didn’t have any notecards, and the look on his face made it look like he didn’t know what he was going to say, but Stiles knew that it would be fabulous.

                “Well, it’s going to be hard to top that, eh?” There was a soft laughter that bellowed from everyone. “But, anyway, I remember there was this day, when I was walking through the woods, clearing my mind, and I saw these two idiots walking around. One of them looked timid and a bit frightened, but the other one had the attitude of intimidation, like he was up for a challenge, and he wanted to challenge me. He had this dorky look on his face, and I thought that he was a cute little teenager, and little did I know that I would be seeing a lot more of this kid. After getting to know him, I just loved him. He was smart, funny, and had the biggest heart of anyone, and I knew that he was the one I wanted, and I was going to wait the rest of my life to try to earn his heart, and now that I have it, I will never let it go. I just, I love you, and we have already gone through some hell, but like Winston Churchill said, ‘When you’re going through hell, keep going’ and so, let’s keep going,” Derek exhaled and Stiles had a tear going down his face. He pushed his glasses down and wiped his face with his sleeve and grabbed Derek’s hands.

                “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you both Derek and Stiles Hale. You may now kiss your spouse,” Stiles looked into Derek’s eyes, and Derek did the same. His eyes flashed blue and they went into the first page of their new chapter of their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys! This is the end of this story, but if you stay tuned, the sequel will be posted momentarily. If you wanna hang out or ask me questions or whatever, come find me on tumblr or Twitter. Thanks for all the support on this story, and if any of you have prompts for art or writing, please don't hesitate to ask. Thank you!!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, the story is over now, this is just a reference page for y'all. Thanks for reading!

Okay, so a while ago when I started this piece, I made a playlist of some songs that would go good with the story line, and I kind of forgot about it, so here's a list of all of them. A lot of these songs inspired me to write this story the way I did. You guys are amazing and thanks for reading! If you're interested, I'm writing a sequel that is posted now! The link is [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/2081121/chapters/4527993).

By the way, these are in no particular order, I just made a playlist on iTunes

  * [Bad Blood by Bastille](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qoNYlV07Cf8)
  * [Safe and Sound by Capital Cities](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=47dtFZ8CFo8)
  * [Black to White (ft. Miss Palmer) by Felix Cartal](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mrg4Ih5cPOc)
  * [Dog Days Are Over by Florence + The Machine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iWOyfLBYtuU)
  * [Boy by Emma Louise](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xl6IaSvyIOk)
  * [Weight of Living (pt. 1) by Bastille](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xyzHYg9BYRs)
  * [Secrets by OneRepublic](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qHm9MG9xw1o)
  * [21 Guns by Green Day](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r00ikilDxW4)
  * [Weight of Living (pt. 2) by Bastille](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S_aa5-SHvDY)
  * [Fireflies by Owl City](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=psuRGfAaju4)
  * [The Silence by Bastille](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=00p2FW7ZLVo)
  * [Demons by Imagine Dragons](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mWRsgZuwf_8)
  * [Things We Lost in the Fire by Bastille](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MGR4U7W1dZU)
  * [Counting Stars by OneRepublic](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hT_nvWreIhg)
  * [Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GCdwKhTtNNw)
  * [Some Nights by Fun.](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qQkBeOisNM0)
  * [Hey Brother by Avicii](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6Cp6mKbRTQY)
  * [Pompeii by Bastille](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F90Cw4l-8NY)
  * [It's Time by Imagine Dragons](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sENM2wA_FTg)
  * [Icarus by Bastille](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FehA9OwZflw)
  * [Radioactive by Imagine Dragons](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ktvTqknDobU)
  * [Halfway Gone by Lifehouse](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xodmwwNV18w)
  * [Alone Together by Fall Out Boy](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LFhEBmNwX_E)
  * [Wake Me Up by Avicii](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IcrbM1l_BoI)
  * [Flaws by Bastille](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1E36WU9Wzf4)
  * [On Top of the World by Imagine Dragons](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=w5tWYmIOWGk)
  * [Set Fire to the Rain by Adele](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FlsBObg-1BQ)
  * [These Streets by Bastille](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zEratQ9p7nM)
  * [Vanilla Twilight by Owl City](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pIz2K3ArrWk)



Okay, yeah, I know, a lot of Bastille, but just listen to that whole album, read this story, and feel major feels for life

**Author's Note:**

> As always, feel free to join me on Tumblr. It's a wonderful place and I welcome all!  
> I drew some (draft) fan art on my  Instagram Account  if anyone is interested in seeing it. I also take writing prompts and art ideas in my ask box, or DM on Instagram.  
> Thanks for reading guys!


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